.  '.     .    . 


OEMS 


THE  GREAT  REFORM 


THE    GREAT    WAR 


AND  OTHER  VERSE 


BY  FRANK   EARL   HERRICK 


UNIVERSITY  OF 

ILLlf     "5  l  BRARY 

AT  UFL...  ,A  C  .AMPAIGN 

ILL  HIST.  SURVEY 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign 


http://www.archive.org/details/poemsOOherr 


^U*~^   ££~A>£  ^JLhJ^^C^ 


HEP?x5«?3SWK9?3gw?&P©S 


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e 


Frank  Earl  Herrick 

WKeaton,   Illinois 


9 


a 


Published  for  the  Author 
by 

BRETHREN  PUBLISHING 
Elgin,  Illinois 
1926 


J* 


BOOK  I 
Poems  of  The  Great  Reform 


CONTENTS 

Book     I.    POEMS  OF  THE  GREAT  REFORM 

Book    II.    POEMS  OF  THE  GREAT  WAR 

Book   III.    POEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY  AND 
FRIENDS 


Dedication 

To  the  Prohibition  Party 

"  One  generation  shall  praise  thy  works  to  another. 
They  shall  abundantly  utter  the  memory  of  thy  great 
goodness  and  shall  sing  of  thy  righteousness." 

These  Poems  of  THE  GREAT  REFORM 
Are  children  of  the  Cloud  and  Storm 

And  Hope's  eternal  Sun ; 
Of  Night  when  every  star  is  gone 
And  Faith  that  never  doubts  the  Dawn, 

And  Duty  bravely  done  1 

I  dedicate  this  sheaf  of  song 

To  those  who  stood  against  the  Wrong, 

Unwavering  and  true, 
Who  nailed  the  ensign  to  the  mast 
And  faced  and  weathered  every  blast 

And  hostile  wind  that  blew! 

A  ship  that  would  not  trim  a  sail 
Or  tack  and  veer  to  catch  the  gale, 

The  trade  winds  or  the  tides, 
That  held  the  lure  of  merchandise, 
Like  will-o-wisps  and  fireflies, 

As  false  and  fatal  guides! 

But  by  the  Cynosure  of  Right 

Held  a  true  course  through  the  long  night 

And  by  the  Pilot  Chart 
Of  lofty  Statecraft  sought  the  goal; 
The  Flagship  of  a  Nation's  Soul, 

The  convoy  of  its  Heart! 


Pr 


oem 


I   do   not   seek   Parnassian   heights 

Nor   wish   to  wear   the   bays 
Won  by  Fancy's  fruitless  flights 

Or  sweet   and  soulless   lays ! 

But  I  would  dwell  among  mankind 

And  share  their  joy  and  woe, 
So  close  that   my  short-sword   can    find 

The  red  heart  of  my  foe  ! 

I  only   wi.sh  the  gift  of  song 

As    I    wish   for  a  brand 
To  cleave  the  brazen  casques  of  wrong 

And  free  my  native  land! 

To  manumit  the  sodden  slave 

In  strong  drink's  galling  chains, 
And   stir  my  comrades   to  be  brave 
On    Freedom's   battle    plains! 

Swift   Pegasus   I    would   but    ride 

As   warriors   ride  their   steeds 
With  spur  and  saber  crimson  dyed 

In  doing  Duty's  deeds! 

Not  for  me  to  drift  and  dream 

On   peaceful   seas   apart, 
But  the  red  and  pulsing  stream 

That   courses  through  the   heart ; 

Nor  sit  and  sing  the  senseless  songs 

That  lull    the   soul  to   sleep 
While   raging  strong  drink's   thousand  wrongs 

Rush  on  with  ruthless  sweep! 

8 


I  would  only  strike  the  string 

Upon  the  Harp  of  Life 
Which  to  comrade  souls  shall  bring 

New  courage  for  the  strife ! 

Other  men  may  sing  of  Seas 
And  Morn  and  Moon  and  Stars, 

I  only  ask  from  all  of  these 
The  sword  and  shield  of    Mars! 

My  militant   and   martial   pen 
Shall  never  seek  its  sheath 

Until  the  close  of  conflict,  when 
We  win  the  victor's  wreath ! 

Against  the  curse  while  life  abides 
Let   the   great   charge   be    led 

With  battle-songs,  like  Ironsides 
With  Cromwell  at  its  head! 


The  American  Flag 

(Tune :  "America  ") 

O  emblem  of  the   free, 
How   beautiful   to   see 

Thy  folds  unfurled 
In  colors  rich  and  warm, 
Like  rainbow's  noble   form 
Sun-painted  on  the  storm 

Arching  the   world ! 

Thy  field  of  beauty  vies 
With    midnight's    starry    skies 

Surpassing    grand. 
From  sunset's  rosy  glow 
Each  blood-red  beam  doth  throw 
Across  thy   field  of   snow 

A   crimson   band ! 


O  banner  of  the  brave 
In  splendor  thou  dost  wave 

In    Freedom's    name ; 
With  deeds   for  heroes  meet 
Thy  story  is   replete, 
And  fort  and  field  and  fleet 

Attest  thy  fame! 

Beneath   thy   lustrous   fold 
Of  beauties  yet  untold 

May  we  abide 
And   every  ill  abate 
That  doth  reproach  a  state, 
Or  stain  a  nation,  great 

And   glorified! 

Before  thy  stars  may  Drink 
That  leads  us  to  the  brink 

Where    nations    die, 
Fall  prostrate  in  the  dark. 
Like  Dagon  cold  and  stark 
Before  Jehovah's  ark 

In  years  gone  by! 


The  Prohibitionist 

A  Puritan  in  things  of  State 

With  heart  to  dare  and  soul  to  wait 
And  never-flinching  faith  that  right  shall  surely  win; 

Piercing  with  his  eagle  eyes 

Through  the  veils  of  compromise 
And  the  schemes  of  men  and  parties  for  perpetuating  sin! 

A  soldier-sentry  on  the  height 

At  the  breaking  of  the  light 
Blowing  a  clear  reveille  to  every  sleeping  tent, 

Sending  forth  a  ringing  note 

From  the  silver  trumpet's  throat 
Like  a  war-cry  and  a  challenge  by  a  fearless  foeman  sent; 

10 


Undismayed   by   sore   defeat; 

Bugle  sounding  a  retreat, 
Truce  or  armistice  or  parley  never  touched  his  lip, 

But  his  quenchless   spirit  rose 

With  the  number  of  his  foes 
And  he  clutched  his  sword  and  buckler  with  a  stronger  grip  I 

He  looked  on  the  nation's  vice 

Of  selling  sanction  for  a   price 
To  poison,  stain  and  blast  the  noblest  things  of  life 

And  his  soul  burst  into  flame 

At  his  country's   sin  and  shame 
And  uncompromising  fury  keyed  him  to  a  fiercer  strife! 

He  beheld  the   tragic   lives 

Of  the  drunkards  in  the  gyves 
And  the  shackles  that  were  forged  by  freemen  at  the  polls, 

And  the   men   who  heard  the  cry 

And  still  scornfully  passed  by 
With  the   haughty  spirit  of   their  little  Levite  souls! 

Feeling  for  his  fellows'  fate 

Stirred  him  to  a   righteous  hate, 
Filled  his  breast  with  sorrow  and  his  eyes  with  tears, 

As  the  Master's  eyes  were  wet 

When  he  saw  from  Olivet 
The  city  soon  to  meet  his  love  with  mockery  and  jeers! 

Heart  of  Luther,  strong  and  brave, 

Lovejoy's  pity  for  the  slave, 
Soul  and  sword  of  Cromwell  fighting  with  his  foes, 

Strength  be  to  your  shining  steel, 

Fire  to  your  flaming  zeal, 
Victory  to  your  valor  and  your  rain  of  righteous  blows! 

June  12,  1914. 


11 


The  Prohibition   Pen 

My  dearest  friends,  thanks   for   the   pen, 
The  weapon   reckoned   among   men 

More  mighty  than   the  sword, 
Yet   whose  peaceful  works  are  crowned 
With  bays  of  victory  more  renowned 

Than   war's   red  fields  afford! 

You   have   placed    within    my    hand 

A  weapon  greater  than  the  brand 

Of  imperial  Charlemagne, 

And  an   instrument   of   fear 
More  dreaded  than  the  iron  .spear 
Upon    the    battle    plain! 

Indeed   a   goodly   pen    is   more 

Than  sword  and  buckler  in  this  war 

Where  yon  have  bravely  led; 
A  conflict  that  shall  ne'er  produce 
An  armistice  or  flag  of  truce 

Till   every   foe   hath   fled! 

Now  what  more  fitting  can  I  do 
Than   dedicate   myself  anew 

And    my    new    golden    pen 
To  the  dear  cause  wherein  we  all 
Are  struggling  to  disenthrall 

Our  drink   bound  fellow-men? 

May   its   ceaseless   fountain   flow 
Against  this  soul-appalling  woe 

That  shrouds  the  sunny  earth. 
That  ever  tolls  its  dismal  knells 
And  muffles  all  the  silver  bells 
Of  childhood's  joy  and  mirth! 

12 


May  I  keep  this  good  pen  bright 
By  knightly  deeds  until  the  light 

Goes  down  upon  the  strife, 
With  strokes  "  to  right  the  wrong  "  allied 
To  good  Excalibar,  the  pride 

Of  Arthur's  blameless  life! 

O  comrades  true,  who  bravely  stand 
To  cleanse  and  purge  our  goodly  land 

Of  all  its  deadly  ills, 
May  you  wear  the  victor's  crown 
Before  your  mortal  suns  go  down 

Behind   the    twilight    hills! 

But  if  you  never  see  that  day 
Yet  your  free,  fair  children  may 

And  glory  in  the  part 
That  you  bore  in  the  ruthless  fight 
Through  the  long  and  starless  night 

With  leal  and  loyal  heart ! 

Oh,  may  the  victory  be  near 

And  soon  the  star  of  peace  appear 

To  greet  your  waiting  eyes, 
As  shepherds  saw  in  years  afar 
The  peace  proclaiming  herald  star 

In   soft  Judean  skies! 

(On  receipt  of  a  fountain  pen  as  a  Christmas  gift  from 
Mr.  and  Airs.  Alonzo  E.  Wilson.) 


Ill 


inois 


O  Commonwealth  of  mighty  men, 
State  of  Emancipation's  pen 

And  lustrous  stars  untold 
As   when   the  banner  of   the   night 
Gemmed  with  constellations  bright 

Unfurls  its  starry  fold! 

13 


State   within   whose   confines   wide 
Young,   heroic   Lovejoy   died 

A  martyr  for  the  slave, 
And  o'er  whose  prairies  where  he  slept 
A  hundred  shouting  legions  swept 

To  glory's  gory  grave  ! 

State    of    the    silent    soldier    who 
Led   the   heroic   hosts   of  blue 

Through  flame  and  battle  scars 
To  keep  our  seamless  flag  unrent, 
And   unbroken    in   the    firmament 

The  cluster  of  its  stars  ! 

Thine   is   a   heritage   more   great 
And  precious  than  the  proud  estate 

Of  all  the  kings  of  time; 
Thy   legacy   a   glorious   part 
Of  true  nobility  of  heart 

And  fortitude  sublime! 

O  Illinois,  the   richest  gem 
In   fair   Columbia's  diadem 

Of   stars   serene   and   grand, 
With  pride  and  swelling  hearts   we  see 
The   bounties   lavished    upon   thee 

From  Nature's  open  hand! 

Thine  opulent  and  lordly  fields 
Whose  never-failing  harvest  yields 

Its  wealth  of  golden  corn, 
And  mines  of  treasure,  deep  and  dim, 
That   overflow   the   spreading   brim 

Of    Plenty's    copious    horn ! 

All  blessings,  mighty  State,  are  thine 
Abundant  as  the  stars  that  shine 

In  midnight's  gorgeous  dome; 
Wealth  and  noble  sons  whose  bays 
Are  greener  than  the  palmy  days 

Of  old  imperial  Rome! 

14 


But  all  of  these  shall  naught  avail, 
My  brothers,   if   we   basely   fail 

To  bravely  do  our  parts, 
For  there  are  evils  now  as  great 
And  perilous  to  this  proud  State 

As  fired  our  fathers'  hearts  1 

Oh,  there  are  enemies  within — 
Strong,   defiant,   law-girt   sin 

And  open,  sanctioned  crime, 
And  decadent  moralists  who  wink 
At  the  red  traffic  in  strong  drink — 

The    tragedy   of   our    time! 

For  a  morsel  of  vile  gold 

Have  our  sunken   statesmen  sold 

The  dearest  things  of  earth, 
Sold  and   bartered   for  a   fee 
Hope  of  youth,  and  childhood's  glee 

And  overflowing  mirth  ! 

With   brazen  insolence  they  plead, 
Rich  sovereign   State,  thy  crying  need 

Of  the  price  of  blood, 
To  build  thy  highways  and  sustain 
The  cities  of  thy  fertile  plain 

By    murder's    crimson    flood! 

O  trumpet  of  the  Past,  impart 
Once  more  that  spirit  to  the  heart 

Of  every  loyal  son 
That  made  our  fathers'  hearts  of  yore 
Leap  up  to   battle  at   the   roar 

Of   Sumter's   opening   gun! 

Dear   Illinois,   in   this   fierce   strife 
Thy   fame,   thy   honor   and   thy   life 

Are  in  the  balance  cast, 
And  valiant  sons  of  thine  today 
Must  do  as  mighty  deeds  as  they 

Who  made  thy  glorious  past! 

15 


That  th'  Liberator's  home  shall  see 
All  of  its  drink-bound  bondsmen  free 

From  all  the   chains  they  wear, 
By  thy  soldiers'  scattered  shrines 
'Neath  the  palmettoes  and  the  pines, 

Our  solemn  vows  we  swear! 


January   20,    1913. 


Appeal  to   the  Columbus   Convention 

O   men   from   every   corner   drawn 
To  think  upon  a  people's  ills, 
The   trembling  twilight   tips   the  hills 

A  herald  of  the  coming  Dawn  ! 

Come   and  be   separate   and   apart, 

Xor  joined  to  the  consenting  throngs — 
The  sponsors  for  the  mighty  wrongs 

When    ballots    voice    a    nation's    heart! 

Renounce  the  parties  and  the  creeds 
That  are  at  peace  with  all  this  woe, 
That  do  not   wish  its  overthrow 

And  back  desire  by  their  deeds! 

Put  all  your  idols  to  the  sword, 

Break  down  the  altars  of  the  past 
And    in    repentant    fires    cast 

The  images  you  have  adored! 

Wipe  off  the  base,  inglorious  dust 

From  sycophant  and  cringing  knee 
And  be   men  worthy  to  be  free 

Or  fit  to  die,   if  die  you   must! 

16 


How  come  this  monster  in  the  land 
And  why  do  men  with  open  eyes 
Look    on    the    evil    compromise 

And  sanction  all  that  sin  has  planned? 

Who  placed  this  blight  upon  the  brain, 
This   canker  in  a   nation's   breast, 
And  for  the  gold  that  he  possessed 

Permitted  him  to  stay  and  reign? 

Who  framed  the  system  of  consent, 

Who    taught   the   profit-sharing   creeds 
And  girt  with  law  the  vicious  deeds 

That    leveled    Virtue's    battlement? 

Who  is  the  graven  god  that  men 
Clad   in   the   livery   of   light 
Offer    the    sacrifice    of     right 

And  homage  of  the   tongue   and   pen? 

The  license  party  god  with  gold 
And  power  and  a  great  array 
Has  led  a  weakling  host  astray 

And  cursed  the  land  with  plagues  untold! 

His   devotees   have   all   defiled 

Themselves   with   dark   and   inky   stains 
And  spread  a  net  of  iron  chains 

To  snare  and  slay  the  Future's  child! 

From  his  vile  worship  has  sprung  up 
Upon  the  homestead  of  the  free 
The   poison-bearing  Upas   tree 

Whose  distillation  is  the  cup! 

They  burned  incense  upon  the  hills 
And  builded  altars  in  the  groves 
And  for  the  fishes  and  the  loaves 

Made  profit  from  the  people's  ills! 

17 


They  came  upon  a  virgin  soil, 

By  law  and  nature  pure  and  free, 
And   for  a   paltry  license  fee 

They   sold   concessions   to   despoil  1 

They  smote  in  twain  the  sacred  shield — 
The  aegis  of  the  Common  Law — 
And  with  exulting  hearts  they  saw 

It  trampled  on  the  battle-field  1 

In  vain  you  talk  of  right  and  truth, 
And  you  become  a  theme  for  scorn, 
When  they  of  whom  this  woe  was  born 

Receive  your  sanction  in  the  booth  1 

The  gain  of  tainted  gold  is  loss, 
As  the  liquors  Christians  send 
To  darkened  heathen  lands  but  tend 

To  make  a  mockery  of  the  Cross! 

The  parties  that  with   purpled  hands 

Feed   full   the   winepress  of  our  woe 
Xor  seek  to  check  its  overflow 

Are   only   Liquor's   vassal  bands ! 

Your  fellowship  with  them  forsake 

Whose  creed  in  statecraft  is  to  give 
Consent  and  countenance  to  live 

Of  all  the  havoc   Drink  can   make! 

Four-square  against  them  meet  the  hordes 
That   planted   in  the  public   health 
This  cancer  of  the  Commonwealth, 

And  show  the  temper  of  your  swords. 


November  13,  1913. 


18 


The  Field,  the  Foe  and  the  Sword 

The   battle-field   is   at   the   polls, 
And  only  there 

The  drum  of  real  conflict  rolls 

And  trumpets   blare; 

There  only  foes  meet  foes  and  feel 

The  shock  of  shield  and  stroke  of  steel  1 

The   only   menace   to   the   foe 

Is  there  displayed ; 

All  else  is  vain  and  mimic  show 
And   dress   parade. 

The  curse   and   prayer  and   bitter   tear 

They  do  not  notice,  feel  or   fear! 

Behind  the    frowning   battlement 
The  law  has  built, 

Deep-moated  by  the  State's  consent 
To  share  their  guilt, 

The  liquor  legions  take  no  note 

Of  aught,  except  the  snow-white  vote! 

But  they  behold  with  startled  eyes 
And  bated  breath 

The   ballot  in   whose  circle  lies 

The  seal  of  death  ; 

The   message   evil   Eglon   heard 

Is  their  doom  but  a  day  deferred. 

Yes,  they  see — and  are  afraid 

With    mortal   dread — 

In   ballot-panoply   arrayed 

And  mighty  tread 

The  soldiers  stern  and  strong  in   will 

Who  come  to  conquer,  smite  and  kill. 

19 


O  comrades  of  the  snow-white  plume, 
The   ballot    brand 

Shall   be   the   thunderbolt   of   doom 
Within   your  hand 

To  blast  the  monster  of  our  day 

And  end   his  soul-appalling  s\\ 


'  The  Female  of  the  Species  " 

When   you  see  the  bums  and   brewers   and   the    riffraff  of 

the   land 
Out  opposing  votes  for  women  with  a  zeal  to  beat  the  band 
You  can  mark  it   down  as  certain   as   the  signs  that   never 

fail 
That   the   female   of   the   species    is   more   deadly    than   the 

male  ! 

When  the  crooked  politician  begins  10  froth  and  foam 
And  proclaim  that   woman's  province   is  the  precinct  of  the 

home 
'Tis  a  sign  he  knows  destruction   is  camping  on  his  trail 
And  that  the  female  of  the  -pedes  is  more  deadly  than  the 

male ! 

When  the  hypocrite  sky   pilot  crawls  behind  Apostle  Paul 
And  says  women  should  keep  silence  he  has  less  of  sense 

than    gall, 
For  without  the  goodly  women  surely  Satan  would  prevail, 
But    the    female   of    the    species    is    more    deadly    than    the 

male ! 

When   the  liquor   license  parties  very  pointedly  and  clear 
Tell  the  great  white  ribbon  army  to  be  seated  in  the  rear 
It  is  simple  as  a  primer  to  a  graduate  of  Yale 
That   the   female  of   the   species   is   more   deadly   than    the 
male ! 

20 


When    the    grafting    legislator,    who    buys    his    way    with 

booze, 
Votes  to  keep  from  womankind  her  just  and  legal  dues, 
He  has  an  eye  for  business — that  of  keeping  out  of  jail — 
For   the   female   of   the   species   is    more   deadly    than   the 

male ! 

Be  men  and  give  her  credit  due  and  power  to  her  arm, 
And    only    place    within    her    reach    the    foe    that    worketh 

harm ; 
Then  shall  the  wicked  flee  away  like  chaff  before  the  gale, 
For   the    female   of   the   species    is    more    deadly    than    the 

male ! 

January  1,  1912. 


To  Hon.  Charles  H.  Poole 

On    his    departure    for    New    Zealand 
(After   Byron's  "Napoleon's   Farewell") 

Farewell  to  the   friend   who  today   is   returning 

To  the  home  that  lies  under  the  bright   Southern  Cross 
Where   skies   with   strange   constellations   are    burning 

Unmoved  by  our  sorrow,  untouched  by  our  loss. 
A   comrade    and   counselor    wise    and    true-hearted 

In  the  prime  of  his  prowess  is  leaving  our  shore — 
Still  a  comrade-in-arms,  though   by   seas   we  are   parted, 

For  great  is  this  conflict  and  world-wide  this  war. 

Farewell  to   thee,   friend;   to   this   Drink-ravaged   nation 

Thou  earnest  aflame,  like  the  dawn   in  the   East, 
Illuming  the  way  toward  the  great  consummation 

When    its    wounds    have    healed    and    its    sorrows    have 
ceased  ; 
To  the  sleeping  a  herald  with  clear  trumpet   pealing, 

A  panoplied  Prince  in  the  front  of  the  fray, 
A  white-plumed  knight  in  the  host  that  is  sealing 

The  doom  of  the  scourge  of  the  nations  today. 

21 


Farewell,  soldier  true  ;  when  the  victory  breaking 

Like  the  Sun  in  his  armor  routing  the  Night 
Brings  the   long  jubilee  to  the  hearts  that  are   aching 

In  the  thraldom  of  Drink  with  its  bane  and  its  blight 
And  the  night  of  defeat  shall  give  way  to  the  morning 

And   the  grand   review  close   the   wearisome   march, 
Then  again  we  shall  see  thee,  bright-laurelled,  adorning 

And  leading  a  host  'neath   the  triumphal  arch! 

Farewell  to  thee,   friend;   with   us   thou   art   leaving 

Sweet  memories   fair  as  the  rose-spangled  mead 
That  shall  blossom  again  in  the  mystical  weaving 

Of  the  loom  of  the  years  yet  to  come,  as  they  speed. 
May  the  warfare  with   Drink  and  its  soul-stirring  story 

And  the  common  cause  keep  us  as  one  in  the  fight, 
Though  we  differ  in  deeds  as  differ  in  glory 

The  gems  in  the   star-sown  fields  of   the   Night! 

October   10,   1913. 


To  a  New  Knight 

This  is  your  year  of  Jubilee 

When    to  your  lawful   rights   restored 
You  share   the   blessings  of  the  free — 

The  purple  and  the  sovereign  sword! 

I  see   in   you  the  splendid  zeal 
Of    new    knight    in    his    maiden    mail, 

With  golden  spurs  and  bright,  new  steel 
And  brave  heart  that   shall  never  quail! 

But   you  must   wage  a  wiser  fight, 
Not  clad  in  mail  with   iron  mace — 

For  in  all  the  livery  of  light 
The  foemen  stand  whom  you  must  face! 

22 


Not  in  the  thick-necked  thug  (indeed, 

The  least  of  all  the  foe  is  he) 
The   danger   lies,   nor   in   the   breed 

That  pours  the  poison  for  a  fee. 

But   in   those   men   of    high    estate 
Whose  consciences  are  dead  and  sere, 

And  those  poor  souls  who  also  hate 
But  hate  him  with  a  coward's  fear, 

And  those  loud  warriors  who,  forsooth, 
Curse  him  until  their  words  are  spent — 

Then  in  the  secret,  silent  booth 
Write  out  their  sanction  and  consent  1 

You  know  his  wiles  as  well  as  I 
O  youthful  knight,  both  brave  and  wise, 

And  his  chief  snare  and  gilded  lie — 
The  smooth,  seductive  compromise! 

Although  we  fight  on  different  fields 
And  in  separate  armies  far  apart 

We  bear  the  selfsame  make  of  shields 
And  the  common  cause  upon  the  heart  1 

Enlisted  till  the  war  shall  end — 

No  drums,  no  plumes,  no  prancing  steeds- 

I  hope  to  share  with  you,  brave  friend, 
The  comradeship  of  knightly  deeds! 

And  woe  betide  the  robber  chief 
That  holds  as  captive  this  fair  land 

And  levies  tribute  from  its  grief 
To  keep  him  and  his  vassal  band! 


23 


Song 

The  W.  C.  T.  U. 

(Tunc:   "Columbia,   the   Gem   of  the   Ocean") 

O  host  of  our  brave  home  defend 
O   white-robed   reformers  so  true, 

Like   the  rainbow's  seven-hucd   splendors, 
The  promise  of  the   world  is  in   yen. 

()   brave   hearts   who    feared   not    nor   fainted 
A  triumphal  arch  lifts  its  form 

On  the  world's  darkest  cloud  brightly  painted 

Across  the  black  brow  of   the   storm, 
Across  the  black  brow  of   the   storm, 
Across  the  black  brow  of   the   storm, 
On   tin-   world's   darkest   cloud   brightly   painted 
Across  the  black  bn>w  of  the  storm! 

The  armies  <»f  midnight  and  morning 

Arc   met   on   the   fierce   fields   <>f   war, 
And  the  bugl<  'down  their  wild  warning; 

Then    brave    band    be    true    to   the    core. 
The   darkness   and    light    are   contending 

For  the  life  and  the  death  of  the  world, 
But    in    scorn  of   all  peril   impending, 

Keep  your  flag  ever  proudly  unfurled, 

Keep  your  r  proudly   unfurled. 

Keep  your  flag  ever  proudly  unfurled. 
But   in   scorn  of   all  peril   impending. 
Keep  your  flag  ever  proudly  unfurled! 

0  men,  'rouse  and  rise  from  your  sleeping! 

And    join    this    great    moral    crusade, 
The  poor   world  is   weary  with   weeping 

O'er  the  ruin  and  wreck  rum  has  made. 
For  the  homes  and  the  hearts  sad  and  broken, 

And  the  hopes  turned  to  ashes  and  dust, 

24 


Let  the  death-sentence  swiftly  be  spoken, 
And  the  judgment  will  be  true  and  just, 
And  the  judgment  will  be  true  and  just, 
And  the  judgment  will  be  true  and  just, 

Let  the  death-sentence  swiftly  be  spoken, 
And  the  judgment  will  be  true  and  just ! 

And  the  hope  of  the  home  and  the  nation 
Through  trials  and  triumphs  shall  stand. 

And  peal  forth  their  proud  proclamation, 
To  the  rum-shackled   slaves   of   the  land! 

Then  will  haloes  of  glory  surround  them 
Like  the  saints  in  the  pictures  we  sec, 

When  the  laurels  of  victory  have  crowned  them, 
And  the  bondmen  of  drink  shall  be  free, 
And  the  bondmen  of  drink  shall  be  free, 
And  the  bondmen  of  drink  shall  be  free, 

When  the  laurels  of  victory  have  crowned  them. 
And   the    bondmen    of    drink    shall    be    free! 

1900. 


The  New  Star  in  the  West 

A   new  star  shines   in   the   golden    West 
Above   the   portals   of   the   ebbing   day, 

Over  a   happy   land  and   blest 
Where  king>  and  queens  hold  equal  sway 

A  child  of  valor  and  the  love 

Of  California's  golden  slope — 
That   splendid   star   now   shines   abo\e 

The  cradle  of  a  new-born   hope. 

It  is  the   morning   star   that  gleams 

As  herald  of  the  joyous  day 
That  slaves  have  seen  alone   in   dreams 

Since  Wrong  has  held  its  iron  sway. 

25 


It   shines,   the   hope   of  half   the   race — 

The  wise,  the  good,  the  fair — 
Bright   in   its    fixed    abiding   place, 

Agleam    in    Freedom's    taintless   air. 

Yes,    dawn    breaks   at    the    gates    of    night 
And  toward  the  East  the-  shadows  fall 

Like  sharp,  accusing  fingers  that  indict 
The  sluggard  conscience  of  us  all. 

Half    fettered    'neath    our    Eastern    dome, 
Full   freedom    in   the    boundless    West, 

Night    where    the    sunrise    has    its    home, 
Day  where  the  great  orb  >inks  to  rest. 

Full   panoplied   to   guard   her   own. 

There  queen  with  king  stands  as  a   peer, 
Armed    to   defend    the    common    throne — 

A    right   divine   denied    her   here. 

And  age-l"iig  ill  that   never  d 

While   man.  and   man  alone,   is   lord 
Beholds   with    fear   and    ^tartl 
The  new   foe  and   the  bright   new  sword. 

O   women    worthy    of    the    tr 
To   guard   the    Occidental    land, 

Keep    bright    by    parry    and    by    thru>t 
The  new  sword   ^iven   to  your   hand! 

Oh,  throw  the   useless  scabbard  down. 

And   never   sheathe   the   shining 
While    evil    thrives    beneath    the    crown 

Of  our   imperial   Commonweal! 

An    evil    giant,   blind   with    hate 

And   surnamed   Drink — of  demon  breed- 
Has  seized  the   pillars  of  our  State 

And  shakes  each  like  a  feeble  reed. 


26 


And  coward  souls  and  shallow  minds 

Accord  him  place  and  honor  too, 
Because  with  his  great  strength  he  grinds 

And  pays  the  tithes  of  mint  and  rue. 

Against  this  author  of  all  ill 

The  main  assault  and  siege  must  be, 

And  the  one  weapon   that  will  kill 

Is  yours — the  vote  that  makes  you  f ree  1 

(On  the  Woman's   Suffrage   victory   in   California.) 


The  Church   Somnolent 

The    Christ-commissioned    Church    a>leep 
Sent  to  subdue  a  sinful  world, 

While  sins  to  make  the  angels  weep 

Parade    with    all    their    flags    unfurled! 

The  Church  that   warred  against   the   Moor 
And   drove   the    Saracen    and   Turk, 

Fear-palsied    pauses   weak   and   poor 

Before    the    great    unfinished    w<>rk  ! 

O   Church   we   know   your   high-blown    pride 
And   list   your  self-crowned   moral   worth, 

By   acts  and   things   undone   belied 

By   day   and   night   throughout    the    earth. 

The  mighty  sword  within   your  hand 
Is  coated  with   inglorious   rust, 

A  jest  and  byword  in  the  land, 

A  mockery  that  none  will  trust! 

The  great  red  Dragon,  surnamed  Drink, 
Before  your  eyes  has  grown  to  might 

And  'neath  his  frown  you  quake  and  shrink 
Like  cravens  fearful  of  a  fight! 

27 


You  have  the  power  in  your  arm, 

His  life  and  death  is  in  your  hands; 

Yet  in  your  reach,  secure  from  harm, 
The   rampant  demon  safely  stands! 

You  give  consent  to  death   for  gold 
And   sell   your   sanction    for  a   fee, 

And  shield  him   by  the   starry   fold 
Of  our  sweet  emblem  of  the  free! 

Apologist   for   evil   days, 

Of  all   your   ancient   virtues    shorn, 
Contemptible  in  the  public  gaze 

And  pilloried  in   the   stocks  of  scum! 


The  Prohibition  Backslider 

O   faltering  and    unstable    man, 
Weak   and   fearful,   lacking  zeal, 

Dim-visioned,  void  of  power  to  scan 

The   depth*    dividing    woe   and    weal. 
Too    weary    to    abide    the    dawn. 

And  tempted  by  the  lust  to  win  : 

An  heir  of  light  who  put  in   pawn 
His  birthright  for  the  spoils  of  sin! 

Once  in  his  heart  the  fire  burned 
Bright  as  the  royal  orb  of  day, 

But   now    the    fervent    heat    has    turned 
From  glowing   red  to  ashen   gray! 

Once   a    proud   soldier   in    the    host 
That  stands  for  the  eternal  right, 

He   fled  despairing  from  his   post 
Amid  the  seeming  hopeless  fight! 

28 


He  who  once  stood  on  our  side 
First  faltered,  fled,  then  joined  the  foe 

And  all  he  loved  before,  denied, 

And  strongly  wrought  to  work  us  woe! 

Before  him  right  and  wrong  arose 
And  claimed  liege  service  of  his  might; 

He  saw  and  knew,  but  basely  chose 
The  darkness  rather  than   the  light ! 

The  light  within  him  became  dark; 

So  deep  that  darkness  and  so  great 
That  death  and  doom  can  only  mark 

The  tincture  of  its  inky  state! 

Deserter  in  the  hour  of  need, 
Of  base  born   appetite  that  seeks 

Again  in  captive  fields  to  feed, 
Like  Israel  longing  for  the  leeks! 

Sit  not  in  judgment  harsh  and  grim 
Nor  hold  him  by  an   iron   rule, 

In   charity  according  him 

The  pity  portioned  to  the  fool! 


April  18,  1912. 


We  Boys 

We   are   the   boys   who   will  be   men 
Not  many  years  from  now,  and  then 

If   any   wrong    is   living   yet — 
Like  whiskey,  beer  or  cigarette — 

We'll  join  the  army  of  the  "  drys  " 
And  fight  that  wrong  until  it  dies! 

29 


We  are   temperance  laddies   now 

And  we  promise,  pledge  and  vow 
With   our   hands   upon   our   hearts 

That  never  until  life  departs 
Shall  one  of  us  e'er  do  so  much 

As  ever  even  lightly  touch 
Tobacco  with  our  finger  tips, 

Or  put  the  poison  to  our  li: 

We  will  be  the  kind  of  boys 

Who  are  the  jewels  and  the  joys 

Of  teachers  and  our  mothers'  too, 
In  all  we  try  and  say  and  do; 

And  we  will  fight   hardest  of  all 
Tobacco  and   King  Alcohol! 

December   5,    1913. 

(Written   for  small   boys'   Sunday   School  class  of   Gary 
Memorial  Church,  Wheaton,  Illinois.) 


A  Lesson  From  a  Legend 

As  the  little  infant   Hercules  one  quiet   night  lay  sleeping 
In  the  hollow  concave  of  his   father's  brazen  shield, 
There  came  two  huge  and  slimy,  sinuous  serpents  creep- 
ing— 
The  most  subtle  creatures   of  the  beasts  of  all  the  field. 

Into   the  guarded   chamber   where   the   little   giant   sleeper 
Lay  in  his  cradle  confines,  wrapped  in  peaceful  dreams, 
They  glided  soft  and   swiftly,   peering  deep  and  deeper 
With  eyes  that  glowed  and  glittered  with  infernal  gleams. 

In   vain  had  the  midnight  drawn  close  its   inky  curtain, 
And   spread   its   sable   counterpane   upon   his   cozy  bed, 
But  in  his  brazen  crib  where  safety  seemed  most  certain, 
Within  a  shield,  unshielded,  lay  his  defenceless  head. 

30 


With  their  swelling  crests  ablaze,  uplifted  and  defiant, 
And  fangs  dripping  poison  like  an  envenomed  dart, 
They  leered  and  looked  upon  the  little  sleeping  giant, 
Then  arched  their  sinewy  necks  to  strike  him  through  the 
heart. 

But  just  then  little  Hercules  awoke  from  his  deep  dream- 
ing, 

And  saw  the  hissing  monsters'  horrid,   hell-like  leer, 

Their  cloven  tongues  swift-darting  and  fiery  eyeballs 
gleaming 

And  frightful  fangs  directed  to  pierce  him  like  a  spear. 

Then  quickly  as  the  shimmering,  vivid  lightning  leaping 
Like  a  sword  drawn  swiftly  from  the  ebon  sheath  of  night, 
Just  as  the  deadly  blows  were  ruthlessly  down  sweeping 
He  caught  the  bolts  descending  midway  in  their  flight. 

Around  the  throat  he  seized  each  hideous  monster  tightly 
And  choked  and  strangled  one  to  death  with  either  hand, 
And  the  fierce  and  fiendish  eyes  which  once  had  burned 

so    brightly 
Grew  lusterless  and  dark  as  death,  or  midnight  in  the  land. 

Of  all  his  combats  with  the  giants  and  all  his  mighty  labors 
Until  the  day  he  perished  wrapped  in  his  burning  shroud, 
Above  the  bloody  triumphs  of  war-clubs   and  of  sabers, 
Of  the   slaughter  of   the   serpents   he   was    ever   the   most 
proud. 

There  are  ten  million  cradles  in  this  fair  land  of  ours 
Where  innocence  and  infancy  are  so  serenely  sleeping; 
But  here  as  in  the  Paradise  of  Eden's  fairest  flowers 
The  subtle,  wily  tempters  come  ever  closer  creeping. 

There    is    no    love-charmed    chamber    which    they    cannot 

enter, 
And    no    cradle-shield    however    embossed    and    girt    with 

love, 
Though   bound  with   brazen   bands  that  run   from  side   to 

center 
And  inlaid  with  gold  and  gems  bright  as  the  stars  above. 

31 


In  every  face  they  breathe  their  pestilential  vapors, 
And  strangle  every  virtue  within  their  cruel  coils, 
And  on  every  fireside  altar  Love's  ever-burning  tapers 
Have   seen    some    fearful   sacrifice   of   their    most   ruthless 
spoils. 

In  their  stings  are  potent   poisons  ever  stronger  growing, 
And   corrosive   compounds  of   more   consuming  fire 
Than  all  the  cups  with  hellebore  and  hemlock  overflowing, 
Or   "juice   of   cursed   hebenon "   that   slew    Hamlet's    noble 
sire. 

Not  alone  through  hut  and  hovel,  but  all  ranks  and  races, 
Black  as  Stygian  slime,  their  poison   pathway   runs, 
As  when  in  the  Trojan  temple,  even  in  the  holy  places, 
The  mighty  serpents  slew  the  priest  and  all  his  sons. 

Fast  and  fierce,  with  flaunting  flags  the  demon  host  ad- 
vances, 

And  we  are  the  warrior-warders  who  must  watch  and 
guard   the   wall, 

We  must  >hoot  our  swiftest  arrows,  and  throw  our  sharp- 
est lances, 

Or  the  holiest  city  e'er  besieged— the  holy  home— will  fall. 

And   "  woe   to   him   by   whom    it   cometh,"  let   the    warning 

words  be  spoken, 
Know  the  tick  of  every  second  is  the  death-dirge  of  a  soul, 
And  they  who  sleep  will   lose  the  portion  of  the  promise 

never   broken, 
\s  from  his  bosom,  while  he  slept,  poor  Christian  lost  his 

roll. 

Now   the   need   is   men   of    valor   who   will   not    retreat   or 

cower, 
And  those  in  high  and  holy  places  who  their  prowess  will 

employ 
In  a  temper  of  true  chivalry  as  "  when  knighthood  was  in 

flower," 
Not  sit  like  senile  Priam  helpless  on  the  walls  of  Troy. 

32 


The  fierce  and  lordly  liquor  serpents,  above  these  cradles 
bending, 

Must  be  straightway  seized  and  strangled  or  everything 
is  lost ! 

With  our  own  hands  we  must  slay  them,  we  must  do  our 
own    defending, 

With  a  spirit,  faith  and  fortitude,  that  nothing  can  ex- 
haust! 

Then  let  the  sword  be  never  sheathed,  but  keep  it  red  and 

reeking  ; 
With  the  fiery  blood  of  dragons  let  it  stream  and  drip, 
Till  the  dawning  of  that  blessed  day  which  all  good  men 

are  seeking, 
When    the    poison    cup    no    more    shall    touch    or   tempt    a 

human    lip  ! 

(Read  before  the  convention  of  the  Illinois  Inter-Col- 
legiate Prohibition  Association,  in  Wheaton  College  Chap- 
el,  May  30,  1901.) 


The  Fiend  of  Drink 

We  are  now  out  in  the  world 
Where  the  banners  are  unfurled 

Of  all  the  pirate  crafts  of  crime  and  awful  sin 
With   the   crossbones   and   the   skulls 
Blazoned  on   their   hideous   hulls 

And  the  death's  head  at  the  mainmast  with  its  grewsome 
grin. 

And  these  social  buccaneers 

Are  cruel  and  immune  to  tears 
As   ever    fierce   free-booters   out   on    the    Spanish    Main, 

And  they  claim  the  ghastly  tolls 

Of  blighted,  seared  and  ruined  souls 
And  bodies  scarred  and  branded  with  the  mark  of  Cain. 

33 


And  the  craven  world  stands  by 

Like  poor  fools  afraid  to  die 
And  pays  inglorious  tribute  to  these  red-handed  men  ; 

With  a  base  terror  overcome 

And  with  a  moral  palsy  dumb 
They  stand  inert  beholders   mute  in  tongue  and  pen. 

As  the  cruel  ocean  surge 

Sings  its   sad   and  doleful  dirge 
(  >f  the  tragedies  and   wrecks  out  on   the  raging  seas 

So  the  eartli  sends  up  its  cries 

Like  the  ceaseless  clouds  that  rise 
From  the  awful  pit  to  which  Apollyon  holds  the  keys. 

And  the  direst  demon  here 
With   the   most   malicious  leer 
Is  the  fiery  fiend  o!  Drink  with  legions  in  his  train; 
He  the  king  of  human   woes 
And  the  chief  of  all  of  those 

That    rallied    with    the    Dragon   on    Armageddon's   plain. 

All  the  other  demons  grim 
An-  but  liegemen  unto  him 
And  his  loyal  vassal  serfs  arc  Murder.  Lust  and  Lies; 

lie   is   high-priest   and   the   chief 

Of  the*yeggmen  and  the  thief 

And  the  libertines  and  reprobates  and  all  tin-  evil  < 

He  is  the  life-blood  of  the  bawd 

And   the    perjurer   and    the    fraud 
And  the  gamblers  and  plug-Uglies  and  all  their  kith  and  kin  ; 

He  is  Anarchy's  right  hand 

And   hurls   the   bomb   and   brand. 
And   the   incentive   and    promoter  of   every    form   of   sin. 

Like    the    fabled    Gorgon-stare 
And   Medusa's   snaky   hair 
He  turns  the  bosom  into  flint  and  hearts  to  hardest  stones, 
And  his  highest  fiendish  joy 
Is    to   blight   some   budding  boy — 
Then    break    his    mother's    heart    and    mock    her    piteous 
moans. 

34 


Fraternal  strife  is  his  content 

And  his  choice  music  a  lament 
And  a  villain-visaged  mortal  is  his  finished  man  ; 

He   holds   a   broken   heart  a   charm 

And  peace  a  trumpet  of  alarm — 
He  puts  a  premium  upon  ill  and  the  good  things  under  ban. 

And  in  all  his   vile   regime 

There  is  not  a  single  gleam 
In   excuse  or  palliation   to   redeem   his  evil   sway, 

And  the  strangest,  saddest  thing 

With  most  humiliating  sting 
Is  that  men  should  tolerate  him  in  their  purlieus  for  a  day. 

But    degenerates    in    brain 
With    the   morally   insane 
Throw   around   this    brutal   demon    the    safeguards    of    the 
law ; 
And  the  sacred   shield   that   should 
Safely    keep    the    weak    and    good 
Only   guards   this   baneful    beast    while    he    tills    his    hungry 
maw. 

Rut   of   moral   beings    frail 
They  are  the  lowest    in  the   scale 
Of   invertebrates   and   mollusks   and    sponge    and   jelly-fish, 

Who  with   coward  souls  and   cold 
Take   his    vile   and   tainted  gold 
And  pander  to  his  power  and  court  his  evil  wish. 

With  the  blood   that   he  has  shed 

All  their  hands  are  reeking   red 
As  partners  and  accessories   with   knowledge  and  consent. 

For  the  many  and  the  strong 

Cannot   make  a   right  of   wrong 
Though   sanctioned   by   the   multitude   and   Christian   Pres- 
ident. 

35 


With   this  monster  we   abhor 
We  must  wage  relentless  war 
And  with  courage,  craft  and  cunning  meet  his  wiles  and 
snares 
And  his  fierceness  all  in  one 
Of  Vandal,   Gaul  and  Goth  and  Hun 
And  Tartars.  Turks  and  Saracens  and  hungry  wolves  and 
bears. 

Oh,  but  what  can  cleanse  and  purge 

This  world  from  the  curse  and  scourge? 
Will   it   ever   be   till  earth   shall   melt  with  fervent   heat? 

When   the  firmament  shall   roll 

All    together   like    a    scroll 
And  the  cycle   of   the   Universe   at    last    shall   be   complete? 

When  amid  the  encircling  gloom 

Earth  shall  hear  the  blast  of  doom 
And    die    beneath    the    dire    eclipse    and    blood-bedarkened 
suns 
While   our   mighty   system   reels 
With   the  shock  and   deafening  peals 
And  the  awful  roar  and   thunder  of  great  Jehovah's  gunsl 

Bui   we   have   a  crescent   hope. 

Still    victoriously    to    cope 
With  the   fierce  invader  and  break  his  battle-lines 

And  make  this  ravaged  land  once  more 

As  pure  as  Eden  was  of  yore 
Ere    the   subtle   serpent   entered   with   his   fell   designs. 

We  must,  till  his  doom  is  sealed 

And  his  henchmen  fly  the  field 
Use  every  craft   and   strategy  and  art  of  cruel   war; 

Attack  by  mines  and  ambuscade, 

Front   and  rear   and  enfilade, 
Till  blank  annihilation   ends   his  reign   for   evermore. 

36 


And  we  among  the   faithful  few- 
Must  be  doubly  brave  and  true 

To  offset  the  weak  allegiance  of  half-hearted  men 
Who  have  no  anchor  to  their  hope 
And   cannot    see   beyond   the   scope 

Of    the    little    field    of    vision    of    their    mortal    ken. 

But  we  know  we  cannot  fail, 

For   right   is   might   and    shall   prevail, 
And  just  a  passing  cloud  is  a  bitter,  losing  fight, 

But  the   victory   shall  be   won 

Completely  as  the  rising  sun 
Routs  with  his   shining  spears  the   sable  hosts  of   night. 

Xow    with    our   spirits    unsubdued 

And    with    our    fealty    renewed 
Let  us  wear  the  amaranth  of  hope  upon  our  hearts, 

Until    the    Prohibition    cause 

With   its   code  of   righteous    laws 
Shall  extend  its  jurisdiction  to  the  earth's  remotest  part-! 

November  25,  1909. 


As   Seen   in   Chicago 

Should  you  ask  me.  whence  these  stories? 
Whence  these   tales   so  dark   and   tragic. 
Whence    these    tales    of    tears    and    trouble, 
Tales   of    villains    and    their   victims, 
All  these  songs  of  sin  and  sorrow, 
All   these    undertones   of   sadness? 
Should  you  ask  me  I  should  tell  you, 
Would    reply   to   you    as    follow-  : 
They  are  tales   I  see  imprinted 
In   the   haggard   face   of  hunger; 
They   are   tales    I   hear   repeated 
By   the   pallid   lips   of    famine, 

37 


They  are  tales  that  I   find   written 

In  the  withered  hand   of   beggars, 

They  are  dirges  that  are  chanted 

At  the  death  of  soul  and  body 

In   the   dark   and  dreadful  drama 

Of  the  life  of  rum-cursed  mortals. 

They  are  sounds  that  rise  forever 

To  the  ears  of  men  and  angels 

From  the   heart    of   this  great   city 

Like  the  smoke  that  rises  ever 

From   the   pit  that  has  no  bottom. 

I  repeat   them   as   I    heard   them 

And  I  paint  their  form  and  features 

Standing   out    like   sculptured    figures 

And    in    bold    relief   depicted 

As  I  see  them  from  Mount  Ego, 

As  a   thousand  times   I  saw  them 

As    a    thousand    times    I    heard    them, 

Weird  and  wild  and  sad  and  dismal, 

You  have  seen  them,  heard  them,  felt  them. 

And  you  know  well  what   I  tell  you. 

By  the  beautiful  blue  waters 
Of  a  Great  Lake  in  the  Northland 
Stands  the  city  of  Chicago, 
Stands  the  greatest  of  ali  cities, 
Like  a  mighty  giant  Cyclops 
Standing  by  his  forge  and  stithy 
Tossing  to  the  sky  above  him 
From  his  forge  and  furnace  chimneys 
Black  and  white  plumes  to  the  heavens, 
While   his   hammers   ring  and   thunder 
As  in   the   days  of  gods  and  giants 
When   the   mighty   blacksmith   Vulcan 
Forged   for   Mars   his  mighty  armor; 
Blessed   above   all   other  cities, 
Also   cursed  with   plagues  the  blackest. 
But  the  blackest  of  all  curses 
And  the  source  and  spring  and  fountain 
And  the  cause  of  all  the  others 

38 


Is   the   great   saloon,   the    demon, 

King   and   first  of   all  offenders. 

He  it   is   who  causes   murder, 

Causes    anarchy   and    murder; 

He  it  is  who  fills  the  prisons, 

He  it  is  who  kills  all  virtue. 

By   his   Gorgon-stare   the  bosom 

Into  stone  is   straight  transmuted, 

All  that  feels  his  touch  is  tainted ; 

By  his  right  hand  homes  are  ruined, 

By  his  scepter  hearts  are  broken, 

By  his  brutal  feet  the  helpless 

Are  crushed  and  trampled  without  mercy, 

By  his   presence   hopes  are   blighted 

And  before  his  index  finger 

All   that's   innocent  and  gentle 

All  that's  good  and  true  and  pure 

Flee  away   and   shrink   and   shrivel, 

Fall  and  fade  and  die  and  wither 

Like  the  withered  leaves  of  winter 

When   the  icy  winds  assail  them. 

Of  such  deeds  he  is  the  author 
That  methinks  they  would  have  surely 
Made  the  spot  of  shame  grow  crimson 
In   the   cheek   and  brazen    forehead 
Of  Babylon,  the  great  and  wicked 
Mother  of  Abomination  ; 
Would  have  shocked  the  slums  of  Sodom, 
Shocked  those  submerged,  fire-deluged, 
Flame-enshrouded,  brimstone-buried 
Cities  of  the  plain   that  perished. 

From  his  confines  come  the  causes 
Of  all  woe  and  wreck  and  ruin 
As  the  winds  came  from  the  caverns 
Where  .-Eolus   held   in  fetters 
All  the  wrathful  winds  of  heaven. 

As  before  the  fearful  onslaughts 
Of   the  thunder-throated  tempest 
When  both  men  and  mountains  tremble, 

39 


Fairest  fields  and  grandest  forests, 
Fragile   flowers,  stately  cedars, 
Giant  oaks  and  pliant   willows; 
Shudder,  quake  and  quail  and  quiver, 
Bow  and  bend  and  break  and  perish, 
And  behind  it  on  its  war-trail 
Follows  death  and  desolation 
Blacker  even  than  the  cloud-rack 
Which  went  on   before  the  tempest; 
So  before  the  blasting,  blighting, 
Furious  deadly  storms  that  issue 
From  the  rum-fiends'  gilded  caverns 
(The  ante-chambers  of  perdition 
By  the  law  engirt  and  guarded) 
Come   all   baneful,   direful,   fatal 
Plagues  and  crimes  and  sins  and  curses 
Charged  with  death  as  clouds  with  lightning, 
Charged  with  poisonous  exhalations 
Like  the  breathing  of  a  serpent  ; 
With  the  poison  breath  of  breweries 
With   the  latent  seeds  of  sickness 
With   the  fetid   fumes  of  fever 
With   the   nauseating  vapors 
Of  both  malt  and  malted  liquors, 
With    all    miasmatic   odors 
From   the  fens  of  fermentation 
From  the  piles  of  putrid  pomace 
From   distilleries  and  gin   mills 
From   the  wine-press  and  the  bar-room, 
Puffing  forth  their  vile  contagions 
In   the   nostrils  of   creation, 
Breath  of   poisonous  decoctions 
Breath   of   leperous    distillment 
Breath    of    reason-wrecking   spirits 
Deadly  as  the   swift  death-angel 
Passing,  breathed  into  the  faces 
Of  the  sleeping  host  that  perished 
With    Sennacherib's   great    army. 
And  with  all  of  these  moreover 

40 


Are  the  seven  plagues  commingled 

From  the  seven  vials  the  angels 

Poured  upon  the  earth  and  waters. 

Then   upon    the   visitation 

Of  this  tempest  of  all  terrors 

Homes  and  hopes  collapse  and  crumble, 

Souls   are  sunk  as  ships   are  sunken 

Going  down  in  seas  of  sorrow. 

Every   virtue   is   uprooted 

And  left  lying  limp  and  lifeless; 

Youth  and  age  and  grace  and  genius 

Are  in  the  vortex  of  the  whirlwind 

Dragged  to  death,  disgrace,  dishonor; 

And  the  glorious  goddess  Reason 

Driven   from   her   throne   resplendent, 

Forced  to  flight  and  abdication, 

Leaves  her  former  fair  dominions 

In   incoherent    interregnum 

And  her  sacred  throne  is  ursurped 

By   the   insane  kings  of   darkness 

And  the  drunken,  brutish   forces 

Of   the  regicides  of  reason. 

Of  the  Vandals  of  all   virtue  ; 

Then  is  Liberty's  fair  temple 

Rent  in  twain  from  top  to  bottom  ; 

Not  one  stone  upon  another 

Is  left  of  that  stately  structure; 

And  along  the  storm-swept  pathway 

There  is  nothing  but  a  desert, 

Only  flints  and  shards  remaining 

Save  perhaps  a  ghastly  relic, 

As    upon    the    great    Sahara 

Skeletons  and  bones  are  scattered 

Bleaching  in  the  sand  and  sunshine  ; 

Gloomy,  ghastlier  and  darker 

Is  the  death-trail  of  the  rum-fiend 

Than   are   all  the   scenes  that   follow 

In  the  wild  wake  of  the  cyclone 

Or   the   scorching   simoon's   pathway. 

41 


Yet  in   the   city  of   Chicago 
From  the  meanest  to  the  Mayor 
All  the   people   know  of  these  things, 
Know  whence  all  of  this  arises, 
And  throughout  the  State  and  Nation 
Both  laity  and  clergy  know  it, 
Know  the  rum-shop  is  the  hot-bed 
Where  the  evil  seeds  are  planted 
Where  they  germinate  and  flourish 
Where   they   grow  in   rank   profusion 
As  poison  as  they  are  prolific. 
Though  the  people  see  and  know  this 
Yet  they  pass  by  without  protest, 
Pass   by   like   the  scornful   Levite 
When  he  saw  his  neighbor  wounded 
And  refused  to  give  assistance. 
Hardened,  cruel,  unfraternal. 

If  still  further  you  should  ask  me 
Why  is  this  and  with   what  reason? 
Why  is  all  of  this  permitted, 
Why  this  ruthless  reign  of  ruin 
Far   more  criminal   and  causeless. 
Far  more  cruel,  base   and  baseless 
Than  the   red   regime   of  terror 
Which   the  streets  of   Paris   witnessed 
When  the  Seine  was  changed  to  crimson 
And  ran  purple  to  the  ocean? 
Should  you  ask  me  for  the  reason 
I  would  be  compelled  to  answer, 
Forced  to  say.  Alas   I  know  not, 
It   transcends   my  comprehension, 
It   is  even   past   conjecture 
How  a  human  hand  can  do  it 
How  a  human  heart  can  sanction, 
How  by  ballots  and  by  bullets 
It  is  strengthened  and  protected 
It  is  cradled,  nursed  and  nurtured, 
Made  a  ward  of  law  by  license, 
When  it  should  be  made  an  outlaw 

42 


Like  an  anarchist  and  traitor 
Like  a  pirate  and  a  felon. 

If  still  further  you  should  question 
And  insist  upon  an  answer, 
Asking  me  who  are  the  authors 
Who   responsible   and  guilty 
For  these  dens  and  dives  and  brothels; 
The  saloon  with  all  its  evils 
Past  the  power  of  pen  to  picture. 
I  would  answer  to  your  query, 
Would  respond  to  you  in  this  wise: 
Every  man  who  holds  a  ballot 
Which  he  does  not  cast  against  it 
Is  a  partner  in  the  business. 
Every  church  that  stands  indifferent 
Gives  its  sanction  by  its  silence. 
Every  man  and  every  woman 
Who   is   not  at    war   against    it, 
Who  is  neutral  in  the  conflict 
Is   responsible   and   guilty; 
For  are  not  all  men  commanded 
To  fight  iniquity  and  hate  it? 

And  not  only  is   this  monster 
By  the  sword  of  law  protected 
Shielded  by  the  sacred  a?gis, 
But  the  guards  of  law  and  order 
In  whose  hands  are  held  the  scepter 
Still   allow    him    further   license 
Unrestrained   to  roam    triumphant 
Into  fields  by  law  forbidden, 
Far   beyond  all   legal   limits, 
There   to  ravage,  waste   and   ruin 
With   impunity   and   safety. 
Undisturbed   and   unmolested. 

Just  the  other  day  a  woman, 
Who  for  many  years  had  suffered, 
Three  and  twenty  years  had  suffered 
From  the  trespass  of  this   demon 
Who  beyond    his  jurisdiction 

43 


Had  assailed  her  home  and  husband, 
Sought  the  Chief  Police  for  succor, 
Sought  the  chief  of  all  the  warders 
By  the  hand  of  law  appointed, 
For  relief  she  sought  assistance, 
Told    her    tragic,    tear-stained    story, 
But  the  chief  refused  to  answer. 
Would  not  notice  her  petition, 
Would    not    even    stop   to   li>ten, 
Said   with   an   impatient  gesture 
Thai  he  had  no  time  t<>  hear  her, 
Was  too  busy  for  such  matter-. 
And  she  went  away  disheartened, 

This  poor   woman   worse  than   widow. 
Sick    at    heart    with    hopes    all    buried, 

Helpless,  hopeless,  w«>r>e  than  homeless, 
Like   ten   thousand  ether  women 
By  this  vicious  monster  martyred. 
O  you  faithless,  fake  officials, 

()    you    timid    moral    coward-. 

()  you  horde  <>f  heartless  ruffians, 

All  you  cowering  Christie--  Christians, 
All  you  "  Cant  and  Canteen  "  preachers, 
All  you  Methodist  beer  Bishops, 
All  of  liquor's  pi<'iis  puppets, 

All    you    poltroon    politician-. 
All  you   supine  moral  mollu-ks 

With  you   vertebrateless   virtue. 
You  are  all  in  condemnation 

For  the-e  crimes  you  see  and   sanction, 

All    alike   in   common  guilty 

For  this  curse  has  not   come   causeless 

That  the  innocent    should   suffer 

For  the   evil   deeds   of  others. 

O   you   conscience-seared   spectators 

Of  this  tragedy  enacted 

Every  day  and  every  minute, 

Yes,  and  you  self-righteous  sinners 

With   your   white   sins  of   omission, 

44 


And  you  host  of  temperance  talkers, 
Whose   every   word  belies  your  ballots, 
Yes,  you  are  your  brother's  keeper 
And   his   blood  calls   loudly  to  you 
From  the  ground  is  loudly  crying. 

But  my  friends  in  arms  be  valiant, 
Be  both  valorous  and  patient. 
O  my  comrades  in  the  conflict 
Keep  the   burnished   blade  uplifted, 
Keep    it    keen    and   red   and    reeking, 
Let   it    rise   and    fall   incessant 
On  this  monster  hydra-headed, 
Drive  it  through  the  joints  and  marrow 
As  the  mighty  gladiators 
Drove  the  short  sword  through  the  armor, 
Plunged  it  through   the  brazen   breast-plate, 
Clove   in  twain    the  casque   and   helmet, 
So   assail    this    fiend    infernal; 
Strip    his    legal    vestments    from    him, 
Tear  the   vizor   from   his   features. 
Take    away    his    shield  — his   license. 
Take  the  sword  from  out  his  right  hand, 
From   his    left    hand    take    his    buckler. 
Without    pity    let    him    perish, 
Give  his  carcas>  to  be   eaten 
By  the  jackals,  dogs   and  vultures, 
Let  his  soul  die  with  his  body, 
Let  his  offspring  be  attainted, 
Let  his  memory  be  accursed. 

Then  will  earth  be  nearer  heaven 
And   the    world   be   more   like   Eden 
Ere  the  subtle  serpent  entered. 
Then  will  bread  be  more  abundant, 
Then    will    hunger   be    forgotten, 
In   the  poor  man's  sacred  cottage. 
Then  above   each   crib   and  cradle 
Will  the  arch  of  hope  be  higher 
Will  the  rainbow  shine  more  brightly. 
Brighter  gleam  the  bow  of  promise 

45 


In   a  hundred  thousand   places. 
Then  will  home  and  heaven  be  blended 
Be  synonymous  and  sacred. 
Then  will  innocence  and  beauty 
Walk  about  secure  and  safely 
And   hope  and  harmony    forever 
Arm  in  arm  will  walk  together  . 
Then  will  this  nation  be  exalted 
For   righteousne>s  alone  exalteth. 

A-   in  the  darkness  dreams  arc  brightest 
Let   us  in   the  inky   midnight 
Of  our   seeming   hopeless   struggle 
Keep   our    laces    towards   the    sunrise, 
Ever  hoping,  never  doubting 
That  we  shall  behold  the  daybreak. 
See  the  sun  rise  up  resplendent 
Like    a    glittering    herald    coining 
To  proclaim  our  day   of    triumph. 
For  these   tilings   shall   surely   follow, 
Those   who   fear  not.   faint   nor   falter, 
Victory  hath  wings,  remember, 
And  oftentimes  cornea  very  swiftly 
When  the  foemen  are  the  strong 
And  their  very  strength  their  weakness. 
It   will  come  to  this  great   nation, 
It   will   come  to  this   great   city. 
It  will  come  and  none  can  stop  it. 

(Read  at   the  Woman's  Temple,  Chicago,  before  the  Y. 
P.  C.  T.  U.,  December  12,  1901.) 


46 


Voting   for   Woolley 


Vote  a  clean,  white  ballot,  boys,  that's  spotless,  pure  and 

true, 
Vote  a  ticket  that  you  know  is  honest  through  and  through, 
Vote  till  the  old  saloon  shall  go  with  all  its  drunken  crew, 
When  you  are  voting  for  Woolley. 

Chorus 

Hurrah!   Hurrah    the   saloon    has   got   to   go! 
Hurrah!   Hurrah!   we   swear   it   shall  be   so! 
And   thus   a   million    men   shall   say    with    ballots    white   as 
snow, 
When  they  are  voting  for  Woolley. 

Too    long    the    liquor    lords    have    held    a    red    and    ruthless 

sway, 
And  all  they  touch  they  turn  to  tears  or  mercilessly  slay, 
But  may  they  reel  beneath  our  blows  on  next  election  day. 
When   we  are  voting  for  Woolley. 

Chorus 

Until  the  big  beer  barons  die  and  this  cause  does  prevail, 
So  long  will  helpless  women  weep  and  innocence  will  wail, 
But  we  will  war  with  all  this  host  and  dauntlessly  assail, 
When  we  are  voting  for  Woolley. 

Chorus 

Then  put  the  bugle  to  your  lips  and  blow  a  blast  so  clear, 
That  all  the  legions  leagued  with  hell  will  quake  and  quail 

to  hear, 
And  mighty  hosts   shall   rally   round  the  standard   that   we 

rear, 
When  we  are  voting  for  Woolley. 

Chorus 

1900. 

47 


The  Impending  Doom 

Oh,  what  long  lustrations  must  this  nation  make 
Before    wine's   deep-red   wrongs   are    purged   away, 

And  with  what  terrors  dire  shall  this  proud  people  quake 
When    States    shall   stand,    as    men,    in   their    sure   judg- 
ment day? 

When  there  shall  naught  avail  the  crimson-crusted  gold 
But  only  to  be  used  as  blushing  proof  of  guilt 

And   Drink's   blind,   captive    bondman,  as   of  old, 
Shall  destroy  us  with  the  temple  we  have  built ! 

E'en  now  the  columns  of  the  Commonwealth  can  feel 
The  strain  of  giant   strength   like  Samson  in   his   might, 

And  on  our  mighty  temple  doom  has  set  its  seal 
Amid  our  coward  mirth  and  mockery  of   right! 

Soon  the  prostrate  pillars  and  the  lordly  dome 
Shall  be  the  cenotaph  of  glories  that  have  fled, 

And  a  gloomy  ruin  our  Liberty's  fair  home 

Where    Honor,    Love    and    Hope    and    Righteousness    lie 
dead ! 

Oh,  repent,  my  people,  and  the  guilty  gold  return, 
Then  by  unearned  mercies  may  you  live  again, 

If  you  by  fitting  works  redeem  the  past  and  learn 
That   righteousness  alone   exalts  the   tribes  of   men! 

June  9,  1914. 


48 


An  Argument 

(To  Dr.  G.  C  G.) 

My  noble  friend  whose  fertile  brain 
And   keen,   appreciative   wit 
Gleam  like   shining   beacons   lit 

And  set  along  the  mental  main 

To  guide  and  warn  the  wandering  sails 
Upon  the  seething  seas  of  thought 
Where  storm  and  siren   ever  sought 

To  wreck  by  reefs  and  raging  gales, 

Turn   your   clear   and   kindly   light 
Upon  the  things  of  human  kind 
And  let  us  jointly  seek  to  find 

The    line    dividing    wrong    and    right ; 

And   seek   with   that   serene  and   true 
Philosophy  that  knows  no  fear 
And  reckons  not  what  may  appear 

Or  precedents   and   pedants   do ; 

That  marches  on  with  honest  soul 
And  pauses  not  to  ruminate 
On  the  result,  or  contemplate 

If  loss  or  profit  be  the  goal; 

That  passes  by  cathedral  doors 
And  is  not  tempted  by  the  gold 
And  honors  vested  errors  hold 

Within  their  rich  and  lordly  stores, 

But  mindful  only  of  that  great 
Desideratum  of  the  wise — 
To  find  the  truth  where'er  it  lies 

And  whatsoe'er  the  seeker's  fate! 

49 


Now  let  us  reason  on  that  thing 
That  agitates  our  goodly  land, 
That  scars  it  like  a  flaming  brand 

And  poisons  every  noble  spring — 

The  law-protected  trade  in   Drink. 
The  panderer  to  all  within 
The  human  heart  inclined  to  sin 

And  from  whose  face  the  Virtues  shrink, 

The  soul-assassin  of  the  race, 
The  sower  of  the  evil  seeds 
That    harvest   ripens   into   deeds 

Of  woe  and   infinite  disgrace. 

What   subterfuges  are  essayed 
To   justify    its    presence    here, 
And  in  defense  of  its  career 

What  base  apologies  are  made? 

The   wealth   of  stolen   gold   it   gives 
A   willing   tribute   from   its   hand 
To   fill   the  coffers  of  the  land — 

The  specious  bribe  by  which  it  lives. 

The  liberty  to  live  and  move 
And  have  our  being  as  we  will 
E'en  though   it   works  our  neighbor  ill 

And   all   mankind   should  disapprove. 

More    false   no   mortal    ever   sang 
Than    "  liberty "    to    do    a    wrong 
And   with   that    word  of   noble  song 

To  hide  a  serpent's  poison   fang. 

And  often  wrong  finds  its  abode 
Among  the  multitude  who  cry 
For  Wrong  to  live  and  Right  to  die, 

Invoking    Pontius    Pilate's   code. 

50 


For  local  option  about  crime 
And  personal  liberty  to  sin 
Are  twin  errors  hatched  within 

The   vulture   nest   of   evil   time ! 

The  right  to  do  a  pleasing  wrong, 
To  set  the  seal  on  sinful  choice 
And  by  the   law's   approving  voice 

To   make   a   glaring   evil   strong; 

And  casting  lots  to  put  the  ban 
On  noble  man  and  womanhood 
And  o'er  the  general  social  good 

To  place  the  pleasure  of  a  man  ; 

All  these  are  only  gilded  lies 

That  with  their  thin,  truth-like  veneer 
Will  shrivel,  pale  and  disappear 

Beneath  the  gaze  of  Wisdom's  eyes. 

I   stand  beside   a   noisome   fen 
From   which   the   exhalations   rise 
Polluting  all  the  wholesome  skies 

And    mingling    with    the    breath    of    men. 

What,   would  Wisdom   waste  her   time 
To  sprinkle  sweet  attar  of  rose 
Where  the  rankest  fen-weed  grows. 

And  pour  perfume  upon  the  slime? 

And  would  she   build  beside  the  fen 
Her  hospital  for  the  disease 
That  every  shoreward  laden  breeze 

Would  blow  into  the  face  of  men  ? 

Or  would  she  sink  an  ample  drain 
To  cleanse  the  fever-breeding  place 
And  with   the  air  and  sun   efface 

All  vestige  of  its   blight  and  bane? 

51 


And  would  she  lend  a  patient  ear 

To  those  who  made  the  tempting  plea 
To  pay  a   rich  and  princely   fee 

To  spread  the  plague  from  year  to  year? 

And  would  she  call  the  countryside 

To  settle  all  by  casting  lots 

Whether  the  pestilential  sj 
Should,  for  the  proffered  price,  abide? 

And  would  she  rest  in  vile  repose, 

rd    rusting   in    its    sheath 
Unworthy   of  the   laurel   wreath, 

Asleep  before  advancing  foes 

Until  a  mighty  host  should  ri 

With  strength  to  fight  the  foe  and  win. 

And    would    she   only    then    begin 
To  open  wide  her  sleep-sealed  ey< 

And    only    then    awake    to    find — 
When    it    v.  :id 

.'list  the  spoiler  of  the  land — 
The  light  to  which   she  once   \\a-  blind? 

Let   not.  O  wise  and  noble  youth, 
Old  Folly's  ofl 
Nor  yet  our  fathers1  foolish  crec 

Mislead    US   in   our    search    for   truth. 

The  liveried  murderers  that  go 
Upon  the  fearful  fields  of  war 
Where  shrapnel  shriek  and  cannon  roar 

Work  not  such  dire  and  lasting  woe 

As   Drink  that  vitiates  the  blood 
And  puts  a   mildew  on  the  mind 
And  blights  the  flowers  of  human  kind 

By  planting  cankers  in   the  bud. 

52 


And   with   this   strong,  insidious   foe 
That  undermines  our  towers  of  Hope 
'Tis  Wisdom's  part  to  fiercely  cope 

Nor  spare  to  deal  the  deadly  blow. 

Against  each  compromise  and  lie 

And  law  that  lets  the  business  stand. 
With  unison  of  heart  and  hand 

Let  us  contend  till  it   shall  die! 


October  22,  1914 


The  Four  New  Stars  * 

Cheers  for  the  West, 

The   land  possessed 
Of  red  blood,  soul  and  brains 

And  strength  of  will 

To  smite  and  kill 
The  \oq  of  its  domains! 

The  license-screened 

[nsidious  fiend 

In   Strong   Drink's  sable   mail 
Your   lance    lias   slain 
And  checked  his  reign 

Of   blight   and   bane   and  bale! 

Your  triumph   thrills 
New  England's  hills 

And  makes  the  fainting  strong, 

And  mighty  plains 
Have   caught  the   strains 
Of  your  victorious  song! 

May   every   sword 

With  one  accord 
Leap  from  its  laggard  sheath 

Like   your   good    brand, 

Till  all  the  land 
Shall  wear  the  victor's  wreath! 


'Washington,   Oregon,   Arizona   and   Colorado  on   winning   State-Wide 
prohibition. 

53 


Those  still  in  thrall 

In   Caesar's  hall 
Their  salutations  send 

With  hopes  increased 

That   in  the   East 
Hi>  red  regime  shall  end! 

O  star-  serene 

Of  matchless   sheen 
In  fair  Columbia's  crown 

Our  hopes  that  sleep 

Resurgent  leap 
At  vour  deeds  of  renown! 


November  8,  1914. 


Twentieth  Century  Knighthood 

Hail  the  heralds  of  the  truth 
In    the   maiden    mail   of  youth 

As    they    come 
From  the   corners  of   the  realm 
To  assail  and  overwhelm 

Raging    rum! 

Kansas,  with  thy  bleeding  plains 

From  the  slave  and  drunkard  chains 
Ever  free, 

All   the  hosts  together  drawn, 

As  the   flowers  to  the  Dawn. 

Turn   to  thee! 

With  the  wisdom  of  the  tomes 
Of    our    Learning's    noblest    homes 

As  their  shield 
And   a   seven-heated   zeal 
Giving  temper  to  the 

That   they   wield 

54 


Like  King  Arthur's  knights  who  shot 
Through  the  lists  at  Camelot, 

Every  youth 
Comes  in  manhood's  strength  and  bloom 
Panoplied  from  spur  to  plume 

In   the   truth! 

All  the   luster  knighthood  lent 
Joust  and  list  and  tournament 

They   display; 
Only  theirs  a  nobler  quest, 
Deeper   vow   and   holier  zest 

For    the    fray ! 

Terrible  the  foe   may  seem 
With   a   mighty   weaver's   beam 

For  a  spear, 
But  to  them  the  men  of  wrath, 
Aa  the  bear  and  lion's  path, 

Have   no    fear! 

They  have  taken  up  the  gage 
Of  the  Demon  of  the  age 

For  the  fight, 
Drink — that  rages  loud  and  long 
With  his  legion  liegemen  strong 

Day  and  night ! 

Twentieth    century    knighthood,    hail, 
Beating  'neath  your  unscarred  mail 

Hearts  of  oak  ! 
Be  the  quest  for  you  to  win — 
To  give   this   Nation's   giant   sin 

The  fatal  stroke ! 

(For    the    National    Intercollegiate    Prohibition    Conven- 
tion at  Topeka,  Kans.,  1914.) 


55 


National   Woman's   Suffrage 

Is  there  not  room  in  the  Bill  of  Rights 
For  the  good  and  wise  and  fair 

Without  whom  days  were  starless  nights 
And   life   a   long   despair? 

Within  a  free  and  equal  land 

Are    rights    but    the    reward 
Of   strength   to   swing   with   iron    hand 

War's    fratricidal    sword? 

Has  not  the  Charter's  ample  scroll 

Space   for   <>ne   little   line 
To  give  to  tli'  jiial   BOUl 

An  equal  right  with  thine? 

[>  es  the  land  where  Freedom  lives 
Washed  by  the  chainless  waves 
Refuse  the  right  she  proudly  gives 

To  manumitted  slaYCS? 

Why    is   the    coronet    withheld 
That    should   adorn   her   brow. 

And   by  what   fears  are  men   impelled 
And    to    what    idols    DOW 

That  they  should  hear  with  awful  dread 
And   blanched   and    pallid   face 

(That  shame  should  paint  a  crimson  red) 
The  plea  of  half  our  race? 

Does  not  the  liquor  serpent's  trail 

And   sinuous  windings  show 
Why  coward  statesmen's  cheeks  are  pale 

And  who  is  woman's  foe? 

56 


But,   timid   statesman,   most   unwise, 
Know'st  not  his   day  is  done 

And  that  his  writhing  body  dies 
At   setting  of  the   sun  ? 

Make  not  the  Rights  of  States  a  plea 
To   shield   these   glaring   wrongs, 

But  let  the  Federal  pact  decree 
The    right    where    right    belongs! 


January  3,  1915. 


The  Pirate  Ships  at  Bay  * 

We've  found  the  range  oi  the  pirate  ships 
That  have  raided  the  seven  seas 
Since  the  birth  of  the  world 
With    their    flags   unfurled 
Polluting  the  wholesome  breeze! 

Against   the  cross-bone  blazoned  ships 

Xnw  let  the  great  guns  roar 
And  the  thunders  sweep 
O'er  the  trackless  deep 

Till  the  black  fleet  floats  no  more! 

The  pirate   crews   of  the  pirate  ships 
With  the  death's-head  coal  oi  arms 

Are    pale   with    fear 
As    when     sailors    hear 
The  ship  bell's  loud  alarms! 

The  rum-rigged  fleet  of  pirate  ships 
Is   ranged   behind   the   strand 

Where  every  crime 

Within  our  time 
Has  made  its  final  stand! 


*On   the  Congressional   vote  on   National  Prohibition. 

57 


Behind  the  Rights  of  States  these  ships 
Lie  low  where  Slavery  bled 

And    Polygamy    bold 

And   the   gambler's   gold 
For  a  refuge  vainly  fled! 

Broadside  blast   the  black-hulled  ships 
And  let  the  turret  guns 

Shake  all  the  shores 

With  wrathful  roars 
Where   the   tide  of   battle    runs! 

-  for  the  world  these  pirate  ships 

Bear  in  their  groaning  hold; 
■  lie  abhorred 
That    I  r    ward 

Can  grant  them  life  for  gold!) 

To  the  endl<  jive  the  pirate  ships 

And  the  crewi  to  the  red  jewed  sharks 

And  let  e\  < 
Of   the   Kl"be   be   free 
From  t he  raids  of  the  Demon  barques! 


mber  24,  1914. 


The  New  Sisterhood 

O  Commonweals  with   I 

Free  from  Drink's  dark   steins, 
With  joy   we  hear 
Your   wild  and   clear 

falling  chains  ! 

Your   fetters  crashing  to  the  earth 
Arc    silver    cymbals    sweet 
And    trumpet    tones 
To   shake   the   thrones 
Where  Mammon's  minions  meet! 

58 


With  noble  scorn  you  spurned  the  gold 
That  lures  a  lordly  land, 

And  in  serene 

Unsullied   sheen 
And  stainless  state  you  stand! 

The   mighty   anvil  chorus   grows, 
Crescendos   wild  and   high, 

As    new-born   notes 

From   freemen   throats 
Sweep  earth  and  sea  and  skyl 

High  hopes  new  kindled  in  the  heart 
Flame  far,  as  beacons  bright 
Where   Ocean    wars 
With    rock-bound    shores 
Throw  out  their  quenchless   light! 

O,  starry  standard  of  the  state. 
Hope  of  the  wise  and  g' 

Make  all  the  land 

From  strand  to  strand 
Like  this   new   sisterhood  ! 

Anent    the    new    "Seven    Sister-"    in     Prohibitiondom— 

Alaska,  Montana,  Michigan,  South  Dakota,  Nebraska.  I'tah 
and  Florida. 


The  Prohibitionist's  Invitation 

Come  clear  and  clean  as  the  tiger's  tooth 

Or  do  not  come  at  all ; 
By  the  tinsel  sword  of  fair  half-truth 

Xo    black-mailed    foe    shall    fall  ! 

Wipe  off   the   dust   ^i   the   hostile   camp 

And    its   altar   ashes'    stain  ; 
Remove   your   sandals,    red    and   damp 

With  the  life-blood  of  his  slain! 

59 


Come  not   with  retrospective  heart 

And  sighing  soul  that   seeks 
Again  the  flesh-pots  and  a  part 

Of  your  task-master's  lc< 

Xo   hyphenated   homage   give, 

Like   license   party  "  drys  " — 
(Their  party*.-  pledge  that    Drink  may  live 
And  their  word  that  it  d; 

Come   panoplied,  of  one  accord 

In  platform,  votc\  and  voice. 
And  swing  a  keen,  consistent  sword 

Of   temper  true  and   cho 

We  want  do  half-heart,  doubting  knight, 
No  half-friend  to  cur  f< 
ompromisers  in  this  fight 
strike  reluctant  blov 


Chicago 

Tune  :  "Ann 

Chicago,  thou  shalt  be 
Unshackled  and  set  fi 

»m  thy  fierce  foe, 

Strong    Drink   that   blights   and   kills, 

Author  of   all   thy   ills 

And    every    wrong    that    fills 

Thy   life   with    v 

We   love   thy   million   hot)  I 
Thy  thousand  gi'  es, 

Thy   towers   tall. 
Thy  blue  lake's  broad  domains, 
Thy  lofty-spired   far, 
And  all  thy  bound  contain-. 

We  love  them  all ! 

60 


City  beloved,  we  come, 
Xot   with   the  battle   drum 

Or  shining  steel, 
But  armed  with  ballot-brands 
To  slay  thy  felon  bands 
And  every  foe  that  stands 

Against  thy  weal ! 

Thy  shameful  license  laws, 
Thy  wounds   without  a   cause 

Shall  cease  to  be ; 
Thy    rum-shops'    open    door 
Shall  close  for  evermore, 
And   health   and   peace   restore 

New  life  to  thee ! 

Great  City  of  the  V\ 

In    snowy   samite   dressed 

Thou    shalt    appear 
When   thy  saloons  are  gone, 
With   all   their   evil   spawn, 
And    Prohibition's   dawn 
1915.  Breaks  bright  and  clear! 

Chicago 

Tune:  "Columbia,  the  Gem  of  the  Ocean" 

Chicago,  the   Pride   of    the   Nation, 

The  child  of  the   Lake  and  the   Plain, 
The   triumph  of  mankind's   creation 

And  king  of  Columbia's  domain; 
With  pride  we  repeat  thy  great   story 

And  spread  far  thy  fame  with  our  song, 
And  all  that   shall   dim  thy  bright  glory 

We  will  fight,  loyal-hearted  and  strong. 

We  will  fight,  loyal-hearted  and  strong. 

We  will  fight,  loyal-hearted  and  strong, 
And  all  that  shall  dim  thy  bright  glory 

We  will  fight,  loyal-hearted  and  strong! 

61 


1915. 


Strong  Drink  like  a  black  clond  reposing 

Upon   the   white   held   of   thy    fame 
And  the  red-eyed  saloon,  never-closing, 

Have  darkened  and  tarnished  thy  name; 
But  an  army  in   numbers  and   .splendors 

Like  the   foam-crested   waves  on   thy  shore. 

Vote-panoplied,  valiant  defenders, 

Shall  come  to  thine  aid  in  this  war 
Shall  come  to  thine  aid  in  this  war 
Shall  come  to  thine  aid  in  this  v, 
panoplied,    valiant    defender-. 
Shall  come  to  thine   aid  in   this  war! 

All    the   white-plumed    forces    united 

t  \  i  rv   foe   from  the   field, 
And   liquor's  enthralled   and    sin-blighted 

Shall   live   again   chastened   and   healed; 
And   the    fame   of    Chicago   unending 

O'er  the   wide    western   prairies  shall   sweep 
And    across    the    bine    billows    extending 

To  the   far  alien   shores   of   the   deep 

To  the  far  alien  shores  of  the  deep 

To  the   far  alien    ihorefl   of   the  deep 

And    across    the    bine    billow  s    (Minding 

To  the  far  alien   shores  of  the   deep  I 

Great   City   that    we   love   and   cherish 
At   all  shrines  and  all  altars  we  bow 

War-sworn    till    thine    enemies    perish, 
And  bound  by  our  seal's  solemn   vow; 

How    proud  then   shall  be   thy  position 
On  the  edge  of  the  plain   and  the 

When   the   white    robe   of    pure    Prohibition 
As  a  mantle  is  thrown  around  thee 
As  a  mantle  is  thrown  around  thee 
As  a  mantle  is  thrown  around  thee 

When  the  white   robe  of   pure   Prohibition 
As   a  mantle   is  thrown   around  thee! 


62 


No  Doubt  About  It 

Tune — From    "  The    Gondoliers  " 

(Song   Xo.   6:    Act    1) 

The  reign  of  rum  and  the  blight  of  beer 

That  stain  our  Nation's  glory- 
Have  come  to  the  end  of   their  career 
Of  broken  heart   and  hitter  tear 
And  serpent  Sting  and  demon  leer 

That  make  life's  tragic  story  ! 
Rut   they  are  facing  an  utter  rout 
Despite   their  best   endeavor  ; 
Of  that  there  is  no  manner  of  doubt. 
Xo   probable,  possible   shadow  of  doubt, 
Xo  possible  doubt  whatever! 

Their  hosts  are  pale  and  faint  with  fear 

Of  the  world-wide   Prohibition 
In   flaming  vengeance  keen  and  clear 
Coming   fast    from    far   and   near 
With    votes    for   panoply    and    spear 
To    sweep    them    to — Perdition  ! 
The   Demon    Drink   is  down    and  out 
Though   cruel  and  cunning  and   clever; 
Of  that  there  is  no  manner  of  doubt, 
Xo   probable,    possible    shadow    of    doubt. 
\*o    possible   doubt    whatever! 

For  all  we  hold  divine  and  dear 

And   the   land   and   flag   we   cherish. 
While    craven    hearts    fly    to   the    rear 
Let  us  fight  on  with  loyal  cheer 
At   the  firing  line  with   souls  sincere 

Till  every  foe  shall  perish  ! 
And  die  they  shall  mid  the  victor's  shout 

63 


And  die  to  waken  never; 
Of  that  there  is  no  manner  of  doubt, 
Xo  probable,   possible   shadow  of   doubt, 
Xo  possible  doubt  whatever  ! 

April  6,    1915. 


The  Prohibition  Party 

You  hold  the  right   and  the  right  of   way 

That  belong  to  the  pioneers 

Who  led  the   van 
Of    their    fellow-man 
On  all  far-flung  frontiers! 

High  and  clear  in   the   itorm  and   night 

Your  bugle  blast  was  blown 

And   your  rolling  drum 
Was    never    dumb 
On    the   fields   you   fought   alone! 

But   now   the  halting   ho>ts  come  on 
And   ^\ser[)   to  the   hard-held    field 

Where    the    foe    shall    die 

If  he   tight  or  fly 
And  die  if  he  stand  or  yield! 

Oh,  hail  the  help  of  the  bright,  new  lance 
And   lock  your  shields  in  strong 

Unbroken  rows 
Before  your   foes 
And   swiftly  sweep  along! 

Oh,  veteran>   true   in  the   truceless   fight, 
In  the  grim  strife  grown  gray, 

Your  grand  ensigns 

All  the  battle  lines 
Are  following  to  the  fray! 

64 


To  Woodrow  Wilson 

(On  signing  the  "  bone-dry  "  law) 

O  scholar-statesman,  keen  of  ken, 
In  all  the   Federal   sphere 
To   emancipate 
A  drink-chained  state 
Your  pen  was  the  pioneer! 

What   lie  before  you  would  not  do 

You  dared  to  cast  the  die 

And  be  the  first 

To  smite   the   worst 

Beneath   the   bending  sky! 

The  keystone  of  the  arch  that  held 
The    citadel   of    woe 

As   its   mainstay 

You    tore    away 
And  laid  the  temple  low  ! 

Along  your  pen-blazed   path   of   light 
Shall  sweep  the  States  made   free 

And    Nation-strong 

Shall    rise    in   song 
Columbia's  Jubilee  ! 


65 


The  Scar  on  Woman's  Face 

Anent    the   "joker"    in    the    Woman    Suffrage    plank   of 
the   Republican   platform,   for   1916. 

"Unkind,  untrue,   unknightly,  traitor-hearted" 
— Tennyson. 

A  blush  of  shame 

For  manhood's  name 
Burns  on  Columbia's  brow  ; 

A  >hame  and  wrath 

Whose    aftermath 
No  man   can   reckon   DOW  I 

A   heaitlesi   joke, 

A   back-hand  stroke 
I-    iroman'l    rich    reward; 

A   promise  fine, 

A  Bmilc  benign — 
And   then— the    Rrutus  BWOrdl 

What    coward    blow 

Of  alien  foe 
Or  fiend  of  evil  star 

On   Woman's   face 

Has  made  this  ! 
And    red,   malignant    scar? 

What   brutal  hand 

Like   slaver's  brand 
Has  left  its  imprint  there; 

What    ghoulish    glee 

Flouted   the   plea 
Of  all  the  wise  and  fair? 

66 


'Twas  not  the  work 

Of  Jap  or  Turk 
Or  heathen's  hardened  heart, 

But   deed  of  those 

Who  proudly  pose 
To  play  the  statesman's  part! 

Your  step  aside 

That  nullified 
All  of  the  good  they  sought; 

Your  treacherous  thrust 

And  broken  trust 
Embitters  all  our  thought! 

A  meek  disguise 

Of  specious  lies 
Was  your   abiding  place; 

But   Honor   asks 

No  darkened  masks 
To   hide    her   open    face ! 

Ignoble   crowd 

That  laughed  aloud 
To  see  the  low  trick  turned; 

That   met   this   wile 

With  wink  and  smile 
And  gladly  saw  them  spurned! 

Have    Lincoln's   sons 
Turned    Freedom's   guns 
On  those  who  would  he  free? 

Has   honor  fled, 
Is   knighthood  dead 
Down  in  the  land  of  Lee? 

Why   still    hold    her 

Below  the  cur 
That  plies  the  white-slave  trade, 

And   count    her   naught 

In  all  your  thought 
When  laws  or  wars  are  made? 

67 


You  give  the  vote 

To  bum  and  bloat 
And  e'en  the  savage  Sioux, 

While  wise  and  good 

Sweet  womanhood 
Receives  a  blow   from  you  ! 

Rights   of  the   State 

To   dominate 
You  sternly   answered  "  Nay  ' 

The   time   you  gave 

The    negro    slave 
What  woman  asks  today! 

Hut   now  you  hedge, 

Turn,  and  allege 
That  you  now  recognize 

That    thi>    false   cried 

I-    true,   indeed, 
And  worthy  in  your   e 

O  poltroon    mind 
OUChing  behind 

Deception  for  defense, 
rade 

Because  afraid 

ike  the  consequence ! 

With  gall  supreme 

YOU   do   not   deem 
That  you  must  answer  why; 

Would  you  conceal, 

Like   thieves   who  steal, 
The  reasons  you  deny  ! 

But  do  not  think 
For  one  short   wink 

It   is   not  widely  known 
You  are  in  chains 
To  him  who  reigns 

On  liquor's  law-built  throne! 

68 


For  his  vile  gold 

Your  soul  is  sold 
Slave  to  your  sinful  choice, 

And  you  the  tool 

Of   his   red   rule 
And  echo  of  his  voice ! 

But   ne'er    forget, 

This  red  and  wet 
Bruise  of  your  brutal  heel 

On  woman's  face 

Shall  spur  the   race 
Anew  with  wrath  and  zeal! 

And  he  it  known 

Your    blood-built    throne 
Shall  be  an   ashen   heap 

O'er  which  the  Sun 

Shall  see  no  one 
Do  reverence  or  weep! 


The  Women  Know 

The   women    know 
Who  is  the   foe 

Malign   and   fierce; 
There  is   no   guile 
Or  subtle   wile 

They  cannot  pierce! 

They   see    it    clear 
In  spite  of  tear 

And  grief-dimmed  eyes 
And  all  the  maze 
Of  crafty  ways 

And   hoary   lies ! 

69 


The  sovereign  vote 
Is  wall  and   moat 

To   guard   the    land, 
Yet   Drink  denies 
This   priceless   prize 

To  woman's  hand ! 

he  decrees 
Old  party  knees 

Bend   to   his   will 
Like  broken   re< 
And  party  creeds 

Are  mute  and  still! 

Ignoble  ila 

And  baser  knai  i  ■ 

Their  tribute  bring 
And   bow   and   crawl 
Like  Clinging  thrall 
re  thi>  king  ! 

While   rum   rem. 
Shall    woman's    chains 

Yet  gall  and  burn, 
And  those  now   free 
To    slavery 

Shall  soon  return  ! 

To  the   Women's    National    Prohibition    Federation,    1916\ 


70 


The  Story  of  the  Special 

A    Metrical    Narrative 

of  the 

Hanly-Landrith  Prohibition 

Special  Train 

(Western  Trip) 

The   Prohibition   Special   Train 

I  throw  a  far-flung  light  along 
Ten  thousand  miles  of  rail, 

And  follow   the  gleam 

As  my  pilot  beam 
Follows   the   headlight's   trail! 

I  take  my  way  to  the  westward  world 
Where  the  star  of  empire  goes 

And  woman  is  free 

As  the   chainless   sea 
And  the  rum  lord  wails  his  woes! 

I  touch  the  crest  of  the  hills  of  snow 
And  the  rim  of  the  peaceful  sea, 
And  from  pine  to  palm 
I   carry  the   balm 
That  shall  make  Columbia  free  ! 

I  greet  the  Queen  of  the   Occident 
In   panoply   bright    for   war 
With  the  fierce,  malign 
Red  host  of   wine 
That  plagues  her  golden  shore! 

I  turn  to  the  desert  and  dash  away 
In   a   race   to   the    rising   sun, 

Sowing    the    seed 

Of  a  nation's  need 
Along  tfce  course  that  I   run! 

71 


I  pause  at  the  rock  where  the  Pilgrim  stood 
Completing  a  circle  of  light 

Like  a  luminous  hand 

From  strand  to  strand, 
As  the  galaxy  girdles  the  night! 

The  Story 
All  the  friends  of  Prohibition 

From  the  ocean  to  the  ocean 

From  the   Ri<  <  I  rrande  del  Norte 
To  Alaska's  Arctic  Circle 
And    from    Lucifer   to    Hesper. 

All    who    Itand    like    lighted    ta 
In    the    chancels    Of    our    churches. 
In    the    transept,   nave    and    altar, 
In  the  pulpit,  pew  and  vestry, 

(iiving  light  where  light  is  needed; 

All    who    hear    the    hla/ing    torches 

In   the   highways   of   this   country 

JTOUr    weak,    wayfaring    hrotln 
May    not    Stumble,    fall   and    perish  ; 

All   who   stand   like   beacons   burning 
On  the  battlements  of  Neptune 

Where   the    surge-    heat    like    legion  I 
Panoplied    in    shining   armor 

And  the  foam-plumed  ocean  told  ■ 

Smite    the    shores    with    crashing    lances 
And   sweep   on   with   inarch   majestic 
To    their    own    wild    martial    music 
When  they  throw  their  silver  helmets 
On   the    rock   emhattled   seashore, 
You  who  warn  againsl  the  breakers 

And  the   luring  liquor   siren; 
W<.uld    you    like   to    hear    the   story 
Of   the    Prohibition   Special? 
Would   you   care   to  pause   and   listen 
To   a   running   light   narration? 
Would  you  like  to  hear  the  story 

72 


Of  a  thousand  thrills  and  triumphs, 

Of  ten    thousand    miles   of   travel 

Told   in   freely   flowing   fashion 

Like  the  running  of  a   river 

Or    a    brooklet   might    meander? 

Would  you  like  to  hear  the  story 

Of    our    nation-spanning    party? 

Would  you   feel   the   exultation, 

Feel  the  thrill  of   tilings  as   we   do? 

Would  you  hear  the  gentle  whispi 

Of    the    forests    and    the    prairies? 

Would  you   hear  the  mountain's   greeting 

And  the   desert's  salutation  ? 

Would  you  hear  the  things  they  told  us 

In    the    confidence    of    brothers? 

Words  of  cheer  and   of  good   eon: 

And    the    kindly    words    of    warning 

Spoken    with    uplifted    finger? 

Then    but    follow    us    in    fancy, 

With   the   mind's    eye    while   you    listen. 

Stewart 

In    the    concept    of   a    mighty 
Marshal  of  the  chosen  people, 

In    the    tropic   brain   of    power. 

In   the   heart  of   a   heroic 

Man  of  dauntless  deeds  of  daring 

Undismayed    and    never    doubting 

Sprang   the   scheme   and   plan   and   being 

Of    this    mighty    undertaking; 

Born    within    his    all-embracing 

Nation-comprehending   genius — 

He  the  dreamer  and  the  doer, 

With    an    eagle    Sweep    of    vision 

Yet    no    microscopic    detail 

Could   escape    bis   searching   notice! 

He    whose    Argus    eyes    see    ev'ry 

Big  and   little    thing  conjointly; 

He    the    planner    and    performer, 

73 


He  the  Czar  and  King  and  Kaiser, 
Haig  and   Hindenburg  and  JofTrc. 
Cromwell,  Bonaparte  and  Cesar; 
He   who   knows  Columbia's   confines 
As  a  boy  knows  all  t he  by-ways 
And  the  alleys  of  his  village; 
In   whose   hands   the   mighty    network 
Of  a  hundred  railroad  systems 
Were  as  reins  of  snorting  chargers 
In  the  hands  of  skillful  drivers 
When    the    charioteers    competed 
In   the  ancient   Roman   ra* 
Bending  in  their  swift  gyrations 
To    his    slightest    nod   and   gesture 
And    responsive   to   his   heart    beats, 
As    the    fleet    and    noble    h< 
Rent  to   I'cn-Hur's  guiding  spirit 
And   the   swaying  of  his   body. 
Twas  beneath  his  guiding   spirit 
In    the    Autumn's    early    twilight 

We  departed  from  Chica. 

On    our    nation-girdling    mission 

To  the  prairies  and  th< 

To   the    forests  and   the   mountains 

To   a   thousand    crowd' 

And   ten    thousand    rustic    hamlets. 

Illinois 

From    her    cornfields    turning    golden 
Illinois  waved  her  bright  bam U 
Waved  the   plumage   of   her   prairies 
In  a  parting  salutation, 
And  her  men   and   half-free   women 
Sent   their  cheering  wishes  with   us, 
Blessed  the  seed  that   we  were  sowing 
In   the   wide   fields  of  the   Nation, 
Laid  their  hands  in  benediction 
On  the  strong  and  stalwart  sowers, 
Laid  a  heavy  burden  on  them, 

74 


Charged  them  with  a  mighty  duty, 

Made  them  prophets,  knights  and  soldiers, 

Made  them  ministrels;  made  them  singers 

And  crusaders  to  deliver 

Our  Holy  Land  from  bondage, 

Sent   them    forth    as  the   forerunners 

Of  the  dawning  dispensation 

Of    a    manumitted    people 

And  a  State  unyoked  from  evil. 

And  they  said,  "  O,  Master  Singers 

Sing  the  Jubilee  of   Freedom 

And    proclaim    emancipation 

To  the  slaves  of  '  viler  bondage,' 

Tell  it   in   the  tones   of  trumpets 

Tell   it    like    pipe   organ    music, 

Minor  of  the  rolling  thunder, 

'Til   Columbia    in    thraldom 

Hears  your  songs  of  martial  music. 

Hears   your    hope-renewing    singing, 

Wakes  in   might   and   shame  and  anger, 

Breaks   the  shackles   from  her  ankles. 

From  her  wrists  the  gyves  and  fetters 

As  the   earthquake   rent   the   prison 

At   the  songs  of   Paul  and   Silas," 

And   the    warrior-visaged    vetVan 

And   the   stalwart    Southern   soldier 

Took  the  new  knighthood  upon  them 

And  went  forward  to  the  battle! 

And  the  Great   Lake   sent    its  greeting 

To  its   nation-sundered    brothers 

Saying,    "Tell    my    greater    brethren 

All  they  hold  between  their  borders 

Shall   be   pure  and  clear  as   I  am 

So  that  men  may  drink  and  prosper, 

Not  the  bitter  brew  of  Bacchus 

Turning  into  swine   and   demons 

All  who  touch  its  Circean  chalice. 

Every  ship  that  plows  your  bosom 

Bearing  to   a   weaker   brother 

75 


Cargoes  of  the  soul-dcstroycr, 

Cru>h  its  bulkheads   with  your  tridents 

And  save  those  they  sought  to  slaughter." 

Wisconsin 

And  Wisconsin  waved  her  lordly 
And  Spring-prophesying  pine  m 

ng  "  Tell  my  giant  cousii 
Tell  the  redwood  and  sequoia 
Standing    in    imperial    splendor 

On   tl  titled   mountains 

That  we  shall  no!  always  witn 

Liqui  '  e  and  ruin, 

But  this  State  shall  si  >lendent 

Like  cur  iwned  crests  when  Winter 

in  her  richest  ermine 
And  the  sunl 

And   the    i  Minnehaha 

Won  us  by  her  v.  ter 

And  the   music  of   her 

Held    aloft   her  cup  of   crystal, 

Smiled    and    cir  I  ly 

•  -  brim  t<  bade  us 

Drink  it   '  ttom. 

North   Dakota 

And    the    North 

w  with  the  golden   harv< 

■m. 
And  its  thousand  great  and  lofty 
Houses  of  the  hoarded  hai 
Sent    it-   greetings    to   the   mountain-. 
Sent  its  freemen's  salutation 
To  the  heaven- to  w'ring  Tit;.: 
Saying,   "May    you    l<>ok    benignant 
Down  upon  a  mighty  people 
Free  from  Drink\s  malign  dominion, 
Free  as  when  our  free-born  breezes 

76 


Greet  and  kiss  the  maiden  beauty 
Of  our  pure  and  stainless  meadows." 

Montana 

And   Montana's    men   and   women. 
Comrades  in  the  ranks  of  voters 
And  co-wielders  of   the  scepter 
Said  with   set  determination, 
With    a    firmness   like   their   mountains, 
"This  great  State  shall  soon  be  stainle 
As  the  chaste  stars  high  above  us, 
As   our   plains   and    pine-clad    ran. 
As  our   crystal   lakes   and    rivei 
It  shall  gleam  in  flawless  luster 
Like  a  gem  set   in  the  circle 
Of    Columbia's    jeweled    girdle 
Or  a  stone   in    her   tiara. 
And  the  ink.  shall  vanish 

From  her  queenly   virgin   vestments; 
Rolled   in   her   unsullied   samite 
She  shall  stand  in  regal  splendor 

In    Columbia's    COUrtS    and    councils. 

By  our  deep-dug  mines  we  swear  it. 
By   the  at   pierce   the   heavens, 

By  the  spires  of  our  temples 
Lifting  up  tl  to  heaven, 

By   our   pines   and    firs    and    cedars, 

Tam'racks,  larch  and  spruce  and  hemlocks 

Pointing    up   like    index    tin.. 

To   the    home   of   their    Creator, 

We  devote  our  souls  to  banish 

From   Montana's  regal  confines 

Every  vestige  of  this  virions, 

Man-debasing  liquor  demon. 

Hoof   and    horn    and    cloven    foot-printl" 

Idaho,  Washington  and   Oregon 

Then  we  went  through  thr<  I  kingdoms 

Wherein   dwell   a   kingly    people 

Plumed  with    Prohibition   helmets 

77 


And  clean-crested  like  their  mountains 
With   their   diadems  of  glory 
Wearing  on   their  brows  eternal 
Fillets  o!  the  snow  and  sunshine, 
Where  the  noble  men   have  given 
Ballots  to  their  noble   women. 
Kingdoms  of  great,  new-built  cities 
Not  embellished  by  blood-money 

Wrung    from   dying   men    and   women, 
Hut    by    honest    labor   burnished 
Like  the  .shining   shields  of   soldiei 
And    the   mighty   \  <  cted 

When  (.Id  Chaos  changed  to  Cosm< 

Sentries    of    the    primal    darkness 

Through  the  night-watch  of  Creation, 

With    their    .silver    helms    sun-glinted 

Stood  at  taciturn  attention 

As  pre  passed  by  on  our  journey. 

All    the    gates    of    all    the    cities 

( opened  \\  ide  their  rtals 

And    the    people   listened    to    Ul 

Heard    our    ::  "..iiided. 

And   they    said.   "  \\'i    came    through    trials 

And    through    mighty   t  rihulat  i- 

To   this   purified   condition 

To  these  white  robe-  wearing, 

But    until    the    great    Republic 
Shall    have    universal    freedom 
Like   our   alien    Northern   neighbor 
We   mUSl   dwell   beneath    the    shad 
And    the    mei  :<»n, 

For    the    wet    plains    'round    about    Ul 

rm   with   prowling  and    tiger-, 

Thieves    and   treach': 
Seeking    for   a    place    to   enter. 
Waiting   for   an    invitation 
From    gold-thirsty,    venal    trait 
But   we   swear  by  all  our  summits. 
By  the  snow-plumed  and  star-sweeping 

78 


Head  of   high    Rainier,  the   regal, 

By  the  dome  of  Hood,  the  haughty, 

By  the  brow  of  fair  Saint  Helens 

And   by   Baker  and   by   Adams; 

By   our    rivers   and   rich   valleys 

By  our  wide,  deep-fruited  orchards, 

By    the    crystal    crested    surges 

Lightly    laving    our    borders 

Lisping  lullabies  and   legends 

Learned  among  the  alien  islands, 

That    hereafter    and    forever 

Our   confines  shall    stand    firmly 

Barred  and  bolted,  locked  and  grated, 

Fortresscd.   high-walled    and   deep-moated  I 

Well   we  know   we  are   in   danger 

Until     every    other     mortal 

'Neath  the  stripes  of  white  and  crimson 

And  the   field  of  stars  resplendent 

free   and   safe   as   we   arc" 
California 

Then  the  Golden  State  threw  open 
Her  great  northern  portals  to  us, 

Welcomed    US    to    her    dominions. 
Welcomed    US   as   her  CO  -ally 

Leagued  against  the  liquor  businc 

Put  our  shining  swords  and  bucklers 

In    the    forefront    of    the    battle. 

Oh,    the    Commonwealth    monarchal, 

California,    the    golden. 

El   Dorado  of   adventure. 

Land  of   all  our   dreams  and   fane; 

Land  of   giant   falls   and    forests. 

Land  of  lure  to  all  gold  seekers 

Now  as  in  the  years  departed. 

By    its   "  cycle-bolted  "   gateway 

Stood  supreme  and  sovereign   Shasta 

Master    of    majestic    mountains. 

Robed  in  white  and  ermine-turbaned, 


Looking  down  on  clouds  below  him, 

Greatest  of   Columbia's   children, 

Tow'ring  o'er   the    peaks   about   him 

Like   King   Saul   among   his   brothers — 

Head  and  shoulders   high  above  them. 

Land  of  Occidental  power 

Robed  in  Oriental  richness, 

Land   of   energy   unequaled, 

Land  of  trees  of  frame  and  stature 

Huge   and   high,  like   Og  of   Bashan, 

Great  of  girth  as  Gath  and  Anak, 

Trees  to  which  our  Eastern  woodlands 

Bear  a   forest's  pigmy   people, 

Land  of  superb  sapphire  sunsets 

Land  of  fleece-fringed  mountain  ranges 

And  of  cascades'  shimmering  splendors, 

Land  of  myriad  fascinations 

Soothing   as    the   silent    cadence 

Of  a  symphony  of  sunset. 

Land  of   endless  orange   blossoms, 

Land   of    luscious    purple    clusters 

Worthy  of  the  vale   of   Eshcol, 

Land  immortalized   by   heroes, 

Made  immortal  by  the  poet 

\Yho>e  sweet  measures  flowed  in  beauty 

Like  the  foam-flecked  mountain  torrents 

Down  Sierra's  snow-clad  hillsides, 

Laughing,  leaping,  singing  sweetly; 

And  then  soaring  like  the  eagle 

On   his   strong,   cloud-cleaving  pinions. 

Playing   mighty  master  music 

On   the   harp>ichord   of   Nature. 

But   upon   this   royal   flower, 

On  this  unexcelled  and  fragrant 

Queen  of  all  Columbia's  roses 

Clings    the    canker-worm   infernal, 

Clings   the   blight   and  mold   and   mildew 

Of   the    legal   liquor   traffic 

And   its   million    pests    attendant. 

80 


But  the  brow  of  a  great  people 

Burns  with  shame  like  the  deep  hectic 

Of  a   fever-fettered   patient, 

Shame  and  righteous  wrath  commingled, 

White-lipped  hate   and   quenchless   anger 

Like   the   fury  of  scorned  women 

And  the  rage  of  love  insulted, 

For   they   love   their    golden   country 

And  they  love  to  tell  its  glories, 

Proud  as  Judah  of  the  Jordan, 

Proud  as   Rome  of  yellow  Tiber, 

Proud  as  England  of   her  island. 

Oh,  it  was  a  valiant  knighthood 

Charging  in   a  great  offensive, 

All  their  armor  was   deep-dented 

By   a   hundred   lost    encounters 

But  their  hearts  were  steel  and  iron 

And  their  souls  were  undefeated. 

They    were    sweeping   to   the    city 

Where  they  had  the  beast  beleagured 

In  the  citadel  of  Satan 

High-walled  by  the  license  system, 

By  the   State's   consent   deep-moated, 

Driving  furious  as  Jehu 

To  the  city  of  Jezreel 

To  destroy  the  sons  of  Ahab. 

And  they   said,   "Our  vows   are  taken 

And  our  right  hands  are  uplifted 

In  the  sight  of  all  our  mountains, 

We  have  crossed  our  hearts  before  them, 

And  to  this  we  call  to  witness 

All  our  thousand  miles  of  ocean 

All   our   thousand   ruined   missions, 

Shattered  frontier  lights  the  padres 

Lighted  in  the  heathen  darkness, 

And  our  future  full  of  promise 

As  an  iridescent  rainbow, 

That  the  red  regime  shall  suffer 

An  eternal  interregnum, 

81 


His  Satanic  scepter  broken 
And  his  evil  issue   blasted 
By  anathema  attainder." 

But  before  we  journey  further 
Would  you  like  to  see  a  picture 
Of  our   champions   heroic, 
The  triumvirate   of  Titans, 
The  great  thunderbolt-defying 
Giants  of  the  giant  struggle; 
See  the  three  brave  of  the  bravest 
Like  the  mighty  men  of  David 
Risking  life  and  limb  and  fortune, 
Risking  all  but  sacred  honor, 
To   bring  to  a   kingly  people 
And  a   royal,  rich-robed   nation 
The  thirst-quenching  cup  of  crystal? 

Hanly 

See  the  plumed  and  laurelled  leader, 
Valiant,  war-seamed  vet'ran  fighter, 
Known  and  feared  of  every  foeman  ; 
Trenchant  tipped  are  his  bright  weapons, 
Strong  the  arm  that  sends  unerring 
The   skull-crushing,  polished   missiles, 
Sure  as  the  sling  of  David. 
In  the  rude  log-cabin   nurtured, 
In  the  school  of  hard  toil  tutored, 
Learning  all  the  lore  of  statecraft 
In  the  Nation's  Council  Chambers, 
Wise  and  strong  and  righteous  wielder 
Of   a   Solomonic   scepter 
In  the  State  of  his  adoption. 
He  is  surcharged  with  the  spirit 
And  the  zeal  of  a  crusader, 
Yet  his  heart  is  kind  and  tender 
For   he   knows    the    utter   sorrow, 
Knows  the  tragedy  and  pathos 
Of  poor,  pity-pleading  children 
Martyred  by  the  liquor  business, 

82 


J.   FRANK   HANLY 

Prohibition    Candidate    for    President,    1910 


Knows  the  felons  it  created, 

Knows  the  derelicts  that  drifted 

Daily  down  on  Rum's  red  river 

To   the   whirlpool   of   destruction; 

Touched  and  tempered  with  compassion 

For  his  fellows'  fatal  failings, 

Hardened   into  wrath    relentless, 

Deep,  intense  and   fiercely   burning 

At  the  tempters  that  destroy  them. 

In   his   rugged   frame   is   beating 

Kindest  heart  of  gentlest  woman, 

In  his  soul  dwells  all  the  beauty 

Of  the   sunrise   and   the  sunset, 

All  the  twilight's  mellow  music, 

All  the  melodies  majestic 

Of  the  grand  march  of  the  heavens 

When  the  stars  in  bright  battalions 

And    the    sweeping    constellations 

Inexpressibly    resplendent 

Pass  with  muffled  drums  before  us 

Softer   than   deep-muted  music, 

Only  heard  by  those  who  listen 

With  the  inner  ear  attentive. 

Pen  of  poet,  eye  of  artist, 

Rich   and   wonderful    word-weaver, 

Singer  laying  down  his  lyre 

For  the   battle's   din   and   discord, 

Even  as  the  high-souled  Milton 

Hushed  his  harp  to  follow  Cromwell. 

Landrith 

Now  behold   the  kingly  scholar, 
Prince  of  Prohibition  pleaders 
With  the  sunshine  of  the  Southland 
Radiating  from  his  presence, 
Wisdom  mantled  with  the  sunlight; 
Big  as  his  own  native  Texas 
Shouldered  like  world-poising  Atlas; 
Predestined   from    the    beginning 

83 


To  become  a  coronetted 

King  Collegian  and  Doctor, 

Robed  in  the  befitting  vesture 

Of  the  livery  of  Learning. 

Healer,  soother,  pacifier, 

The    soul-warming,    gloom-dispelling, 

Friendship-making  and  feud-healing 

Doctor  of  disgraceful  discord, 

All  the  broken  bonds  cementing, 

Bridging  all  the  petty  chasms 

Like  a  shining  rainbow  arching 

Little    Earth's    uneven    places. 

Royal  wit  and  wholesome  humor, 

Flashing  fountains   of   good  nature 

Flooding  all  the  land  with  sunshine 

Like  the  Jordan  overflowing 

All  its  banks  in  time  of  harvest. 

Open  portals  of  Aurora, 

Golden   chariot  of   Phoebus 

Driving  black-mailed   Night   before   him. 

Sunny    Southland's    minstrel   music 

With   the   pathos,  sun    and   softness 

Of  his   sable  song-birds  singing 

Down  in  Dixie's  fields  of  cotton. 

But  against  the  frowning  menace 

Of  the  state  and  church  and  children 

He  is  dark  as  'boding  tempests 

When  the  lurid,  livid  lightning 

Leaping   from  its   ebon   scabbard 

Cleaves  the  earth  and  sky  asunder, 

Scorching  hot  winds  of  invective 

Burn  along  his  path  of  hatred 

Fierce  as  a  blast-furnace  breathing 

Its  white  wrath  of  five-fold  fury. 

Poling 

Look  upon  young  manhood's  idol, 
Prohibition's   Percy  Hotspur, 
Knighthood's  mirror,  plume  and  helmet, 

84 


And  the  waymark  for  the  youthful 
Soldiers  of  the  Dawn  Renascent. 
Is  he  common  clay  or  did  he 
Fall   from   parapets   celestial? 
Who  were  his  immortal  forebears? 
Were  they  Jupiter  and  Juno? 
Were  they  Venus  and  Apollo 
Or  Endymion  and  Hebe? 
With  the  stateliness  and  beauty 
Of  his  father  and  his  mother? 
Clear  his  voice  like   the   resounding 
Trumpet  of  the  herald  Hermes 
Calling  all   the  gods  to  battle. 
Gallant  Galahad  and  Gareth, 
Bold  Sir  Bedivere  and  Bevis 
Leadership   and   sway   of  Arthur 
With  Excalibar   resistless, 
Bringing   help  and  soul-reviving 
Hope  to  evening's  weary  warriors, 
Coming  to  us  when   the   battle 
Trembled  in  the  doubtful  balance, 
As  the  field  of  Nasby  witnessed 
Ironsides   and   Cromwell   coming. 
Gifted  painter  of  word  pictures 
Set  in   frames  of  gold   and  silver, 
Phrases   fine   as   polished   marble, 
Sentences   that   roll   like   billows, 
Words  that  flow  like  peaceful  rivers 
Crooning  music  to  the   meadows, 
Clustered  gems  that  burst  like  rockets 
Streaming  down  in  many  colors. 

The    Home-Returning 

With   this  leader   and  these   soldiers 
Then  we  swept  on  through  the  desert, 
Through   the   canyon-cloven  country 
Cactus  carpeted  and  arid, 
Rocks  and  red  sand  and  dry  rivers, 
Great  State  with  its  borders  menaced 

85 


By  a  foe  more  fierce  than  Villa, 
By  the  banished  liquor  traffic 
Seeking  boldly  to  re-enter, 
With  a  Cataline  defiance 
Vowing  to  return   with   vengeance; 
But  her  sun-burned  sons  applauded, 
Cheered  and  thanked  us  for  our  coming 
And  allayed  our  apprehensions 
Saying  they  would  keep  the  standard 
Stainless   in  the   desert   kingdom. 
Swept    New    Mexico's    primeval 
Terrace  temples  and  red  mountains, 
Saw  its   far-famed   turquoise   sunsets 
With  its  desert  beauty  blemished 
But  by  drink  and  voteless  women. 

Swept  the  State  whose  sky-built   city 
Capitol  and  gilded   State   House 
Stand  a  mile  above  the  ocean, 
Passed    its   river-riven    gorges 
Boulder  walled   and   without   bottom, 
Saw    its    civic   beacons    burning 
Upon    cv'ry   lofty   mountain 
Calling  all  the  plains  to  combat, 
Found   its   keen-eyed    soldiers   ready 
Bivouacked  upon   its  borders 
To  keep  out  the  liquor  felon 
It   had   touched    with   its   attainder. 

Touched  the  Mormon's  Land  of  Promise, 
Saw  its  domed  and  spired  temples, 
Heard  its  thousand  throated  organ; 
State   by  two-faced   treason   cheated 
Out  of  Statewide  Prohibition, 
Victim    of    a    venal    villain, 
If  its  people  say  correctly, 
Low  as  Judas'  base  betrayal, 
Dastard   as   the   deed   of    Brutus, 
Pardonless    as    faithless    Arnold. 
But  a  brave  and  noble  people 
Smarting  with  the  stinging  insult 

86 


And  with  cheeks  and  foreheads  mantled 
Red  with  wrath  and  shame's  deep  scarlet 
Have  with  one  voice  doomed  the  demon 
Whose   destruction  treason   thwarted. 

Went  through  wind-swept,  wild  Wyoming, 
First  in  chivalry  and  knighthood, 
Pioneer  of  Woman  Suffrage. 

Then  we  came   to  kingly  Kansas, 
Laurelled,   loved   and   lordly   Kansas, 
Crimsoned  and  ensanguined  Kansas, 
Holy   Land   that   holds   the   ashes 
Of  our  crowned  and  haloed  hero, 
Mecca  of  a  mourning  nation. 
Land  of  John  Brown's  dauntless  spirit, 
State  that  sent  more  Union  soldiers 
Down  to  Freedom's  fields  of  glory 
Than  the  number  of   its  voters; 
State  of  shining  years  like  burnished 
Mileposts   on    the    march   of   progress, 
Sunflower  in  a  field  of  daisies, 
Sunburst  in  a  Queen's  tiara, 
Cynosure  of  the  resplendent 
Stars  upon  the  Nation's  banner, 
Paradise   of   Prohibition, 
Abolition's  early  Eden, 
Paragon  of  civic  honor, 
Rich,  imperial,  heroic! 

Met    Missouri's   valiant   yeomen 
In  a  struggle  without  quarter 
For  a  rumless  constitution. 

Touched  Nebraska's  freshly  furrowed 
Field  of  woman's  lost  encounter 
Where  the  liquor  lords  defeated 
Equal  rights  to  equal  subjects; 
Here  the  universal  hatred 
Virtue   holds   for   the  despoiler 
Boils  and  flames  and  fiercely  hisses; 
But  before  the  snow  shall  mantle 
All  her  broad  and  peaceful  prairies 

87 


The   decree   of   Prohibition 
Spreads  its  counterpane  of  ermine 
Over  all  her  smiling  landscape. 

Then  we  passed  the  State  resplendent, 
Hallowed  by  the  blood  of  Haddock 
Murdered  by  the  liquor  business, 
Stood  with  bared  heads  bowed  in  homage 
As   a   tribute   to   his   manhood, 
Saw  State  Prohibition  standing 
A  white  shaft  of  flawless  marble 
Deep-set  in  the  firm  foundation 
Of  the  soil  his  life-blood   crimsoned; 
Here    where    cringing    compromisers 
When  they  saw  his  body  buried 
Said,   as   slavemen   said   of   Lovejoy, 
"  Lo,  he  died  as  the   fool  dieth." 

Sweeping   northward,    swinging   southward 
Widely  on  our  home-returning, 
Seeding  twenty  States  for  harvest, 
Cheering    brave    and    fiercely    fighting 
Irredentia    Dakota 
Seeking  to  become  unshackled 
Like  his  freeborn  northern  brother; 
Then    rolled    onward    to    Chicago, 
To  the   Great   Lake's  royal   city, 
Plowing  deep  and  sowing  freely 
All  the  fertile  plains  we  traveled, 
Turned  ten  thousand  miles  of  furrows, 
Fleet   forerunners  of   the  reapers. 
Oh,  it  was  a   royal  seed-time 
And  the  sowers  scarcely  slumbered, 
Working  late  and   rising  early, 
Walked  the  dew  while  larks  were  singing, 
Heard  the  whippoorwill's  late  vespers; 
Touching  heart   strings  that   responded 
Like  a  harp  to  minstrel  fingers. 
Yea,  a  hundred  thousand  people 
Shouted    loud    their   approbation, 
Promised   us    their   freemen   ballots ; 


And  the  sweet-faced  sunshine  children 
By  the  thousands  upon  thousands 
Raised  their  white  arms  up  to  heaven 
As  a  sign  they  wished  us  triumph, 
Waved  their  open  palms  before  us 
So  that  we  might  read  their  wishes, 
Though  their  bright  eyes  told  the  story; 
Some  who  oft  had   stood  atremble 
'Neath  the  frown  of  Drink's  dark  villain 
With  their  frail  arms  bent  like  bucklers 
To  ward  off  the  blows  descending. 

All  the   golden,  wise  words   uttered 
Were  sent  down  the  burning  wires 
To  the  land's  remotest  corners 
As  the  great  Sun  sends  his  sunbeams 
Far  and  wide  o'er  all  the  nations, 
And  the  white-lipped  message  bearers 
Told  it  to  ten  million  readers. 

O   dear   Prohibition   people, 
Red  blood  of  the  rich  Republic, 
Salt  that   saves   our  social  system, 
Index  fingers  pointing  forward 
With    inflexible    precision 
Down  the  great  highway  of  triumph, 
Water  well  the  fields  they  planted, 
Let  the  sunshine   fall  upon  them, 
Keep  the  choking  tares  uprooted 
Until   Autumn's   heavy    harvest 
Ready    for   the   shining   sickle 
Nods  and  waves  o'er  all  the  nation. 


Note. — Written  en  route  the  Hanly-Landrith  Prohibition 
Special  Train.     (Western  Trip.) 


89 


John  P.  St.  John 

A  soldier  of  the   Night 

Falls  as  the  breaking  light 
Tints  the  Dawn  Triumphant  in  rum's  relentless  war 

A  Morning  Star  gives  way 

Before  the  rising  day; 
A   hero   sinks   upon   his   shield   far  in   the  battle's   fore  1 

He  gave  to  this  grim  strife 

A  full,  four-seasoned  life  ; 
Fearless    and   foursquare   to    all    the    winds    that    blow; 

Like   a   deep-rooted  oak 

That    braves    the    lightning    stroke 
He  met  the  hostile  blasts  and  bullets  of  his  foe  1 

He  sleeps  serenely  now, 

Pallid  his  war-worn  brow 
And   still   the    heart    that    beat    a    Nation's   reveille, 

And   thousands   bow   the   head 

Above  the  speechless  dead 
Whose   voice  awoke  a   people   by   the   fervor  of  its  plea  1 

We  lay  this  little  line. 

This    petal,   on    his    shrine 
Among    the    high-heaped    flowers    of    a    world's    esteem, 

And  from  his  sacred  urn 

With   ten-fold  zeal  we   turn 
To   reap  his   golden    harvest   and   consummate   his  dream! 

Note.— Written  en  route  the  Hanly-Landrith  Prohibition 
Special  Train. 


90 


IN  MEMORIAM 


JOHN    P.    ST.  JOHN 

Prohibition    Candidate    for    Presidenl    in    1884 


The  Sword  of  Hanly 

Flaming  brand 
In   the   hand 

Of   a   knight 
Clad  in  steel 
And  with  zeal 

Backed  by  might! 

Bright  its  sheen, 
Sharp  its  keen 

Double  edge, 
Swung  in  war 
Strong  as  Thor 

Swung  his  sledge! 

Man  and  maid 
Bless  the  blade 

Cleaving    through 
The  black  veiled 
Sable  mailed 

Drunken   crew! 

Blaze  and  flame 
Till  the  shame 

Of  the  land 
Shall    lie    dead 
'Neath  your  red 

Streaming  brand! 

October  7,  1916. 

Note. — Written  en  route  the  Hanly-Landrith  Prohibition 
Special  Train. 


91 


Song 

The  New  America 

Tune:    America 

America,   for    thee 
The  dial  of   Destiny 
Points  to  high  noon  ; 

The   fate-fraught  hour  when 
Emancipation's     pen 
Shall  give  to  drink-chained  men 
The  priceless  boon ! 

\Yc  hail  thy   men  of   might 
Who  lead  us  in  the  fight 

To   cleanse    the   land  ; 
The   lion-hearted,  leal 
Soldiers    of    flaming   . 
True  as  the  temper. 

In  knighthood's  brand ! 

To  end  our  Nation's  shame 

They   come   fierce  as   the   flame 

•  m  cannon's  month  ; 
The  i tit   and    I 

United    fight   for  thee 
•list    the    slavery 

rth    and    Son tli! 

Columbia,  the  Gi 

A    rum-unshackled    State 
Thou   soon   shalt    he, 
Untainted    by    the    gold 
Of   manhood    bought   and    sold, 
But  with   thy   flag   unrolled 
In    purity  ! 
July.    1916. 

For  the  Hanly-Landrith  Campaign.    Sung  at  Notification 
Meeting   at   Indianapolis. 

92 


DANIEL  A.   POLING 


Daniel  A.  Poling 

(On    delivering    the    keynote    speech    at   the    Prohibition 
National  Convention,  at  St.  Paul,  in  July,  1916) 

Behold  the  Prohibition  young  Apollo  Belvedere, 

Eternal  youth  in  beauty  crowns  his  brow  with  light, 

E'en  as  the  sun-kissed  crests  of  morning  hills  appear 

Like  helmets  of  the  heralds  of  the  enemies  of  Night! 

A  polished  marble  majesty  is  his  in  poise  and  mien 
Like  a  superb  statue  chiseled  in  the  classic  days; 

A  thought-compelling  countenance  illumined  and  serene 
As  though  a  holy  vision  held  his  enraptured  gaze! 

His  voice  was  martial  music  that  quickened  us  to  life 
When  he  struck  the  keynote  of  all  the  major  chords, 

Like  sentry  wakened  warriors  springing  to  the  strife 

While    from    sleeping     scabbards     leap     the     flaming 
swords! 

O  comrades,  catch  the  chorus  of  t His  mighty  battle  song 

And  roll  its  wild  crescendos  to  our  ocean-girdled  shores 
And   shake   the   deep    foundations   of   the   forts   of    vested 
wrong 
Till    o'er    a    stainless    Nation    our    white-winged    eagle 
soars ! 

O  singer,  soldier,  sentinel  on  Hope's  sun-haloed  hill, 

The   vanguard   of   the   victory   the   breaking   day   shall 
bring, 

We  come  with  leveled  lances  to  smite  the  hosts  of  ill 
As  Cromwell  swept  to  battle  against  an  evil  king! 


93 


Santa  Monica 

O  little   city   by  the  sea 
With  Ocean's  arms  stretched  up  to  thee 
Like    mother    to    her   child. 

nee — a  golden  hour — 
ming  like  a   fragrant   flower 
In    glory    iindefiled! 

The  lovely,  foam-plumed  inrge  that 

Your  with   it>   Minlit  U  I 

K'  lullabies  o!  peace 
With    a   rich    melo  :der 

As  the  iui  ndor 

When    the    twilights    ce.< 

But,   0  gorgi  lay 

Idea  day 
The  canker-worm  and  w 

Mildew    and    the    blighting   story 
That    would   blast   yur   p< 
When    it    should   unfold  ! 

Augustine, 
•  ctity    and    clean 
The    city   named    for   th< 

All  its  scarlet  sins  redeeming;, 

Making  it  a   pure   pearl  gleaming 
By    the    Sunset    sea! 


November  14,  1917. 


94 


A   Prohibition   Story 
A  Political  Poem 

Note:— Those  who  sincerely  sought  Prohibition  often  differed 
sharply,  and  even  bitterly,  as  to  method,  etc.  The  partisan,  local 
option  and  non-partisan  separate  efforts  tended  to  much  lack  of 
unity.  While  happily  all  differences  are  swallowed  up  in  the  Great 
Victory  all  ardently  desired,  yet  the  true  history  of  the  Great  Re- 
form   cannot    ignore    them.      This    poem    illustrates    the    situation. 

All   who  hate   the   liquor  traffic. 
All   who   hate    the    license   system. 
All  who  raise  their  hands  in  protest 
At  the  sin-stained  gold  it  otfer>. 
All  whose  cheeks  burn  with  the  crin. 
Blush  of  shame,  whose  scarlet  tincture 
Burns  and   reddens  deep  and  deeper 
At   their   country's    profit    sharing 
In  the  crowning  crime  oi  nations; 
All    whose    hearts    turn    sick   at    seeing 

Freedom's  flag  above  a  brewhou 

And    our    gre.it    sun->oaring    eagle- 
Spread  his  wings  as  a  protecting 

Shield   above   the   liquor    bu>n 
Read  the  records  rudely  written 
In  the  scars  and  brands  and  cur~ 
Left  upon  the  souls  and  bodies 
Of  your   hundred  thousand   brothers 
By  the  law-protected  traffic! 

All  whose  bosoms  beat  responsive 
To  the   cries  of   fellow   mortals. 
All   whose    hearts   are   touched   by    trials. 
All  whose  hearts  are  made  more  tender 
By  the  woes  and  wrongs  of  people, 
All  whose  heart-strings  are  made  vibrant 
By  the  strains  of  joy  and  sorrow  : 
Listen   to  the  tragic  stories. 
And  the  tearful  tales  of  pathos, 
And  the  tones  of  piteous   anguish 

95 


Of    the    choking    sobs    of    children, 

Terror-faced  before  this  demon 

That  the  law  has  loosed  among  them! 

All    whose    spirits    are    uplifted 
By  the  purer,  loftier  vision 
That  beholds  the  good  day  coming, 
When  the  universal  heart-beat 
Shall  turn  discord  into  rhythm, 
And  all  harmonies  together 
Blend   into  a  great  crescendo 
That  shall  fill  the  world  with  music; 
When  the  bruises  of  all  mortals. 
Bruises  of  the   soul   and   body, 
Shall    be   soothed    by   touches    tender 
As  the  hand  of  a  sweet  mother 
Laid  upon  the  throbbing  temples 

Of    her    fever-stricken    children: 
Hear  the  story,  oft   repeated 
In   the  lives  of  those  about  you! 

1    portray    DO   man  of    fancy, 
I    repeat    no   idle    fiction 
That  imagination  pictures, 
But   a   man   of  mortal   passions 
And   of   common   clay  compounded 
Moving  day   by   day  among  n^ 
Seeing,    hearing,    feeling,    thinking. 
Bearing  in   his   soul  and   body 
The   stigmata  of  the   traffic 
In    intoxicating    liquors — 
State  defended,  law  engirdled — 
Knowing  the  effects  and  seeking 
Earnestly  to  know  the  causes, 
Seeing  with  unclouded  vision, 
Undeceived  by  prate  and  prattle, 
With  the  cold  steel  of  pure  reason 
Bravely  meeting  every  question! 

Born  within  the  drunkard's  shadows, 
Looking   through  Drink's   darkened   windows, 
That  give  to  the  sunshine  tinges 

96 


As  of   smoke  and  clouds  commingled, 
Seeing  beauty  marred  by  baseness, 
Seeing  wrath   and   rancor  turning 
Harmony  to   din  and  discord, 
Seeing   hope   by   disillusion 
Dashed  into  a  thousand  fragments 
Like  a  statue  of  fine  marble 
By    a    brutal    Vandal    broken. 
Never   were   the   shadows   absent, 
Never  the  bright  days  of  Summer 
But  some  somber  cloud  impending 
Cast  its  shadow  on   the  landscape, 
Darkening  the  sunny  meadow, 
Checking  all  the  glee  and  laughter 
Of  the  thousand  smiling  daisies 
By    its   storm-foreboding   presence! 

Through    the    blossom-scented    Springtime, 
From    the    smiling    salutation 
Of  the  violet's  "  Good  Morning," 
To  the   thousand   spreading   roses 
At  the  threshold  of  the  Summer, 
Still  the  serpent's  hiss  was  present 
As   he   walked   among  the   flowers, 
Like   the   mighty   serpents   crawling 
Round  the  infant  giant's  cradle  ; 
Through  the  harvest's  hosts  of  flowers, 
When   the   fields   of   golden   glory 
Bow  before  the  rustic  reapers, 
There  the  liquor  serpent  stung  him, 
Coiled  and   ran  across   his  pathway; 
Through  the  Autumn's  many  thousand 
Shades  of  yellow,  brown  and  crimson, 
Painted  bright  on  field  and  forest, 
Still  he  heard  the  hated  hissing 
In  each  withered  leaf  that  rustled  ; 
When  the  icy  winds  that  herald 
Winter's  cruel,   snow-plumed  army 
Found   upon   the  barren  meadow 
Only  golden    rods    remaining 

97 


All  alone  of  all  the  flowers 

To   defy   the   fierce   invader, 

Still  the  adder  and  the  serpent 

Of  the   poison  liquor  traffic 

With  their  darting  tongues  pursued  him! 

Thus  he  came  to  manhood's  stature 
And  to  man's  estate  and  powers, 
When  the  ballot  box  presented 
His  first  chance  to  smite  the  foeman, 
When  the  sharp  and  shining  weapon 
That  had   been   denied   his   mother 
To  protect  her  helpless  children 
Was  at  last  his  proud  possession. 
And  he  thought  much  on  the  subject, 
Pondered  what  his  actions  should  be — 
Death  or  dalliance  or  nothing, 
Compromise,   delay,   or    lie <. 
Fight  or  run  or  base  surrender? 
And  he   thought   and  looked   and  listened, 
Weighed   all  parties,   men   and   measutf 
Platforms,    policies,    and    systems. 

Heard   Republicans  proclaiming 
All  the  glories  of  the   tariff, 
Shouting    for    a    high    protection 
To  a   people  unprotected 
From  th-  I  o!  liquor  ; 

They  who  built  the   mighty  castles, 
Dug    the   deep    moats    round    about    them, 
Where  the  black-mailed  knights  of  license 
Lived  and  preyed  upon  the  people; 

Heard  the  loud  Progressives  shouting 
Also   for  a   mighty   tariff, 
Only   lower  than   the  other, 
Which,   they   said,   was   made  by   robbers, 
Spoke  no  word  against  this  evil, 
Passed   it   by  as   unimportant. 

Heard  the  Democrats  declaiming 
That  the  Commonwealths  were  sovereign, 
That  the  rights  of  States  were  sacred, 

98 


Never  drew  an  arch  of  promise 
In  the  black  clouds  thick  above  us, 
Set  no  star  of  hope  resplendent 
In  the  dark  sky  of  the  nation. 

Heard  the  Socialists  demanding 
Better    economic    systems, 
Yet  no  word  against  the  business 
Undermining  every  system. 
Not  one  word  in  all  their  platforms 
Hostile    to   the   liquor   traffic, 
But  they  all  were  acquiescent 
In  its  vile  continuation  ! 

And  he  saw  the  liquor  traffic 
With  the  Fed'ral  seal  upon  it, 
Saw  the  war-dogs  of  a  Nation 
Bristling  for  the  fiend's  protection, 
Like    the    savage,   triple-headed 
Dog  of  Hell  at  Pluto's  portals 
Safeguarding   the    Nether    Kingdom, 
Saw  the  sword  of  the  Republic 
Leaping   from   its   bloody   scabbard 
To   defend   the   liquor   felon. 

Heard  the  politicians  pleading 
For  the  suffrage  of  the  brewer-. 
For  the  votes  of  the  bar-tenders; 
Heard  the  laity  and  clergy 
Pleading  for  their   liquor   parties, 
Pleading   for  these  self-same   ballots; 
Likewise  pleading  with  great   fervor 
Not  to  stain  the  holy  vestments 
Of   the   Church   by   an    indorsement 
Of  the   Prohibition   Party. 
Lestwise  politics  corrupt  them 
And  their  pious  souls  be  tainted, 
Lest  the  lordly  license  system 
And  its  sponsors  be  offended 
By   their   unkind   interference! 

Heard  the  "  Church  in  Action  ''  saying 
With  a  menace  in  its  meaning, 

99 


M  Come   not  out   for   Prohibition 

In  your  platforms  and   your  pledges, 

Do   not   speak    of    Prohibition 

In  the  platforms  of  your  parties, 

Neither   for   the   State   or   Nation. 

In  your  pledges  to  the  people, 

In  declaring  what  you  stand  for, 

In  the  policies  you  sanction, 

In    your    written    creed    of   statecraft, 

O    be    careful!    very   careful! 

Not    to   promise    Prohibition, 

\<»t  to  mention   Prohibition! 

If  you  call  the  clans  together 

In   one  army   for  the  battle 

That  shall  fix  the  Nation's  status 

On   the   great,    momentous   question; 

If   yon  promise  legislation 

To  outlaw  the  liquor  business, 

If  you  pledge  the  faith  and  credit 

Of  your   party   to  accompli>h 

The  destruction  of  the  traffic 

When  you  >hall  be  placed  in  power, 

Then,  this  is  the  solemn  warning: 

The  '  Church  in  Action  '  will  oppose  you, 

Will  .see  that  you  are  defeated  ! 

Only   vote   for  those  we  sanction, 

Only   Ihosc   with   our   approval, 

Lay   aside   your   private   judgment 

Voting  just   as  we  direct  you. 

There   are   things   you  understand   not, 

We  will  do  your  thinking  for  you, 

We  will  go  among  the  soldiers 

Of  the  standard  license  parties, 

Where   men  dry  as  the   Sahara 

And  those  wetter  than  the  ocean 

Walk  together,  ballot  brothers; 

We  will  pick  the  ones  we  favor, 

We  will  suborn  them  to  treason 

To  their  parties'  proud  traditions; 

100 


In  the  halls  of  legislation 
They  will  rise  above  their  parties, 
Guided   by   their   noble    honor, 
They  will  vote  for  Prohibition, 
Even  though  their  party  fathers 
Thereby  lose  the  smiling  favor 
Of  the  potent  liquor  factions; 
Though  they  walk  beneath  the  banners 
And  the  ensigns   of  the   foemen, 
Though  they  wear  the  self-same  labels 
As  the   license   system's   soldiers, 
Wearing  epaulets  and  helmets, 
Uniformed   as    hostile   warriors 
And  accoutered  just  as  they  are 
They  are  true  though  in  false  colors, 
Vote   for   them   and   for   no  others  I  " 

Thus  the  young  man  heard  them  talking, 
Saw   them   smiling   self-complacent, 
Satisfied   in    their    delusion 
By  their  own  "  white  maps  "  deluded, 
Talking,  threatening  and   boasting 
Full   of   furioso   thunder, 
Torches,  rockets,  and  red-fire, 
Burning  loosely   piled  gun-powder 
Making  a  great  smoke  but   lacking 
The   effect   of   concentration, 
As  when  the  long-rifled  cannon 
Sends   its    swift   steel-jacket    bullet 
Crashing  through  the  biggest  bulwarks. 

Then    he   listened   to   the   comments 
In   the   enemy's   encampment, 
Heard  the  men  behind  the  battle 
Who  mapped  out  all  the  maneuvers 
Of   the   brewers'   big  battalions, 
Of  their  battle-ships  and  cruisers. 
Heard  them  laughing  in   derision, 
Unrestrained  in  vulgar  gusto. 
And  they  said:  "This  'Church  in  Action' 
Fights  us  in  a  piecemeal  fashion, 

101 


With  most  weak  and  witless  tactics. 

Though  their  numbers  are  ten  million 

Yet  ten  thousand  can  resist  them, 

For  their  seven  armies  never 

Strike  us  in  a  solid  phalanx. 

Never  move   in   mighty  concert 

In  the  battle  of  the  ballots, 

And  their  great  strategic  chieftains 

Have  rejected  those  who  pleaded 

For  a  charge  in  mass  formation 

On   election's   field   of   conflict. 

Therefore  is  their  fighting  fruitless, 

Futile  as  a  flock  of  rabbits 

Charging  on    a    pack    of    tigers. 

But  their  folly  is  their  ruin, 

Likewise  it  is  our  salvation, 

Yea,  our  life   hangs  on   our   cunning 

And  the   folly  of  our  foemen. 

For  if  they  should   wake  to   wisdom, 

And  in  onslaught  all  concentered 

Charge  our  law-dug  license   trenches 

And  our  party-builded  breastworks 

They  would  sweep  us  to  destruction 

And  oblivion  unending! 

But  the  silly  '  Church  in  Action  ' 

Sees   amid   the   raging  battle 

Friends  of  theirs   in   hostile   harness, 

In  the  forefront  of  our  forces 

Leading  on  our  big  battalions, 

Leading  party  regimentals 

With  their  own  complete  indorsement 

Blazoned    bright    across   their    helmets, 

And  to  spare  their   friends  they  falter 

Fighting   in   half-hearted    fashion. 

We  can  give   them  local  option 

Knock-out  drops  to  make  them  slumber. 

We  can  give  them  model  license, 

We  can  draw  or   raise   the  curtain. 

Small   concessions    satisfy   them 

102 


Like  a  bone  thrown  to  a  mongrel, 
Half-way  friendly  legislation 
Flushes  them  like  mighty  triumphs. 

But  there  is  one  foe  defiant, 
One  unconquerable  warrior, 
Vicious,   vindictive,   and   bitter, 
Unrelenting,  ruthless,  savage, 
Holding  out   no   hope   of   quarter, 
Breathing  death  to  all  our  forces. 
He   denies   us   legal  status, 
Says  our  trade  is  not  a  business 
But  a  crime  in   law  and  morals ; 
Proffered  gold  to  buy  his  favor 
Only   deepens   his  deep  hatred ; 
No  concessions  satisfy  him, 
Naught  but  death  and  hell  hereafter. 
And  his  name  is  Prohibition — 
Puritanic,    fierce,    fanatic, 
With  all  governmental  functions 
To  his  beck  and  nod  responsive; 
Prohibition  with   a  saber, 
With  a  bayonet  and  pistol, 
With  the  soldiers  in  the  saddle, 
Prohibition  with  a  cannon, 
With  a  Prohibition   Marshal, 
With  the  President  and  Judges, 
With  the  Constables  and  Sheriffs, 
With  the  Army  and  the  Navy 
To   enforce    his    drastic   statutes! 
And  he  calls  us  every  evil 
That  his  fertile  brain  can  fancy; 
Calls  us  cancers  in  the  vitals 
Of  the  glorious  Republic, 
Calls   us   scrofulous   eruptions, 
The  King's   Evil  of  the   Nation, 
Calls  us  leeches  feeding  freely 
On  the  life-blood  of  the  people, 
Says  we  are  the  fellow  felons 
Of  the  thieves  and  thugs  and  grafters, 

103 


The  right  bower  of  the  gambler 

And   the   panderers'   co-partner 

And  the  deep-mouthed  and  ferocious 

Blood-hounds  of  the  white  slave  hunters, 

And  the  dance  hall's  luring  spider, 

And   the   libertine's   side-weapon, 

And  the  club  of  the  plug-ugly, 

And  the  fountain  head  and  feeder 

Of  the  madhouse  and  the  prisons, 

And   the   evil   eyes   combining 

Basilisk,  Medusa,  Gorgon, 

In  their  dire  and  fatal  action. 

And  he  shouts  his  loud  defiance 
At  our  friends,  the  major  parties, 
Asks   them   many   pointed   questions, 
Calls  upon  them  late  and  early 
To   repeal   the   license   measures 
They  have   put   into   the  statute, 
Asks  them  to  remove  the  safeguards 
They  have  thrown  around  the  traffic; 
Tells  them  to  put  back  the  country 
As  it  was  before  their  statesmen 
Granted  greed  and  crime  concessions 
To  despoil  the  best  and  fairest 
For  a  pittance  of  the  profits; 
Says  all  license  laws  are  creatures 
Of  their  positive   enactments, 
And  a  special  abrogation 
Of  the  Common  Law  conditions; 
Says   Republicans   conjointly 
With  the  Democrats  accomplished 
All   this   license    legislation. 
And  the  posing,  proud  Progressives 
Set  their  seal  of  silent  sanction! 

He  is  our  undying  foeman, 
His   the   tactics  to   destroy  us, 
And  against  his  heartless  method 
Naught  avails  our  circumvention, 
Subterfuges  and  evasions, 

104 


And  our  often  used  flank  movement 
Is   a  failure   flat  and   futile, 
Strategy  avails   us  nothing — 
He   is   mining  all  our   trenches, 
Placing  powder  underneath  us, 
Sapping,  sniping,  submarining, 
Cutting  our  communications, 
All  is   contraband  we   carry, 
We   are   but  red-handed  pirates 
And  our  flag  the  jolly  roger. 
He  must  die  or   we  must  perish! 

But  the  '  Church  in  Action  '  hates  him, 
Says  he  should  go  out  of  business, 
Stop  his  partisan  endeavors 
To  secure  Prohibition, 
Cease  to  call  all  men  together 
In  political  alignment 
In  a  unity  of  action 
To  assault  the  liquor  business 
At  its  source  of  life,  the  ballot. 
Says   it   will  get   Prohibition 
Better   without   his   assistance." 

Deep  the  things  he  heard  and  witnessed 
Sank  into  his  plastic  being, 
And  he  gave   consideration 
With   a  keen   and   careful   caution 
To  the  things  he  had  encountered; 
Analyzed  the  men  and  motives, 
Pierced   the   fallacy   and    falsehood 
With  the  trenchant  probe  of  reason; 
Sophistry  and  lies  were  scattered 
Like  the  chaff  before  the  tempest, 
Error  driven  like  the   darkness 
By  the  swift  and  shining  arrows 
From  Aurora's   golden   quiver 
When  the  mighty  Sun  arises. 
And  he  said,  "  I  now  am  standing 
At  the  threshold  of  my  manhood; 
Dark  has  been  the  past  behind  me, 

105 


And  that  darkness  casts  its  shadows 
Even  now  into  my  future. 
Bitter  were  the  days  now  vanished, 
By  the  poison  cup  embittered, 
Gall  and  wormwood  have  I  tasted! 
Why  should  I  stand  acquiescent? 
Why   should  I  debate  or  parley? 
Why  should  I  refrain  from  battle 
With  the  forces  that  constructed 
All  the  breastworks  of  my  foemen? 
Built  the  mighty  license  system? 
Gave  it  being  as  an  infant, 
Cradle-rocked  it   and  baptized  it, 
Nursed  and  nurtured  and  adopted 
It   and  all  its   evil  brothers? 

How  can  I  or  any  mortal 
With  a  heart  or  brain  or  conscience 
Hold  the  Local  Option  dogma — 
The   philosophy  of   Pilate, 
Where  a  multitude  may  murder 
And  a  robber  win  his  freedom, 
Where  the  weak  excuse  is  offered 
That  the  multitude  have  voted 
That  the  sinless  ones  should  suffer 
Although   manifestly   faultless, 
For  the   voices  of   the   people, 
Like  the  voice  of  God,  have  spoken? 
By  the  murder-rabble's   verdict 
Are  our  hands  by  blood  empurpled 
Washed  and  rendered  white  and  stainless? 
Has  the  law  been  abrogated? 
That  we  are  our  brothers'  keeper? 

Where  shall  I  be  found  in  battle 
When  the   reveille  is   sounded 
On  the  morning  of  election — 
In  the  day  that  tells  the  story, 
In  the   day  the  votes   are  counted, 
When  the  Government  takes  notice 
And   the   legislators   listen, 

106 


When  the  parties  fight  each  other, 

When  all  men  are  in  the  conflict 

Partisans  in  fact  and  spirit, 

When   non-partisans  are   phantoms 

And  the  dreams  of  a  pipe-dreamer, 

Bodiless    and    non-existent? 

E'en  the  '  Church  in  Action's  '  hobby 

Of   non-partisan    endeavors 

And  its  modus  operandi 

Rests  alone  on  the  assumption 

Of  political  alignments, 

Of  men  organized  in  parties 

Representing    many    measures 

Acting    as    the    people's    agents, 

Shaping  policies  of   statecraft. 

And  the  '  Church  in  Action  '  uses 

Them  as  instruments  for  placing 

Candidates   upon   the   ballot, 

And  they  pick  the  ones  they  favor 

From  these  party  chosen  people. 

O  you  simple  'Church  in  Action'! 

Must  the  friends  of  Prohibition 

Never,  never  be  united 

In    one    Prohibition    Party? 

Is  the  strength  of  temp'rance  forces 

In  political  endeavors 

In  division,  not  in  union  ? 

In  the  battle  of  the  ballots 

Must  we  meet  united  foemen 

Strong   in   unity  of   purpose, 

Meet  the  mighty  liquor  legions 

With  our  many  small  detachments 

Led   by   divers   rival   leaders? 

Will  the  ones  who  forged  my  fetters 
Ever  give  me  manumission? 
Will  the  merciless  task-masters 
Ever  end  the  galling  bondage? 
Will  the  hardened-hearted  Pharaoh 
Of  the  license   system  serfdom 

107 


Ever  give  his  slaves  permission 
To  attain  the  land  of  promise? 
Will  the  parties  that  have  stithied, 
Forged  and  riveted  the  shackles 
Loosen  them  or  clamp  them  tighter? 
Why   give   aid  to   these   slave-holders 
When  the  sword  is  in  my  right  hand? 
Why  give  back  their  fleeing  victims 
To  the  power  of  their  clutches 
When  I  have  the  sword  to  free  them? 
Why  believe  they  will  be  better 
When   they   have  not   even   promised 
To  abate  one  jot  or  tittle 
Of  their  ancient,  ruthless  rigors? 
Has  one  spot  upon  these  leopards 
Ever  changed  in  any  manner? 
I  will  never  dip  my  pennant 
To   the   drunken,   pirate   parties, 
Never  use  their  skull  and  cross-bones 
As  my  voting  party's  emblem, 
Never  hold  them  but  as  felon 
Buccaneers   on   life's   wide   ocean, 
Cruel   as   the   black   slave   traders, 
Cruel  as  the  Congo  butchers, 
Cruel  as  the  Viking  cruisers 
And  the  Spanish  Main  marauders! 
Never  will  I  wear  their  colors 
Or  salute   their  jolly   roger. 
Oh,  how  many  thousand  people 
Walked    their    pirate    planks    blind-folded, 
Dropped  dishonored  to  the  waiting 
Red  jaws   of  the   hungry  monsters 
Of   the    shark-infested   waters? 
Oh,  how  many  alien  peoples 
Curse  the  cargoes  that  are  carried 
From  our  ports  to  make  the  savage 
Still  more  savage  and  degraded, 
Following  the  mission  workers 
Till   the    Christian-pitied   heathen 

108 


Hold  the  Cross  as  but  the  herald 
Of  the  drunkard-making  merchant ! 

Shall   I   vote   that   this   continue? 
That  the  red  reign  of  these  pirates 
Go  on  without  interruption? 
Shall  I  give  the  license  system 
Life  immortal  by  my  ballot? 
Shall   I   pay   its    fathers   tribute? 
Shall  I  give  its  sponsors  comfort? 
Shall  I   sanction   their  traditions? 
Shall   I   worship   at   their  altars? 
Shall  I  stand   up  and  be   counted 
One  among  their  motley  many? 
Shall  I  share  the   gold  they  offer? 
Shall  I   overlook   their   silence 
When  they  should  have  loudly  spoken 
Or  forget  their  overt  actions? 
Shall  I  not  be  ever  conscious 
That  the   liquor  license   system 
Is  the  bulwark  and  the  breastwork 
And  strong  tower  of  the  business? 
Yet  it  is  a  truth  most  certain 
That  the  local  option  dogma 
Predicates   the   license   system 
As  in  force  and  very  valid; 
Rests  upon  the  license  system, 
Could  not  draw  a  breath  without  it; 
Rests    upon   the   vicious   teaching 
That  the  voice  of  half  the  voters 
(And  a  tiny  fraction  over), 
Half  of  less  than  half  the  people 
May  of  right  doom  any  section, 
Fasten  the  saloon  upon  it, 
Make  it  lawful  and  protect  it? 

But  the  law  of  Prohibition 
And  the  local  option  dogma 
Are  as  far  apart  as  sunset 
From   the   portals  of   the   morning, 
As  one  antipode  is  widely 

109 


Separated   from   the   other. 

They  cannot  exist  together  : 

If  the  one  is  right,  the  other 

Is  a  wrong  in  truth  and  practice. 

If   the  people  of  a  given 

Local   governmental   unit 

Have  the   right  to  keep  their  serpents 

Herded  in  their  little  confines, 

Notwithstanding   the   objections 

Made  by  the  surrounding  country, 

Then  is  State-wide  Prohibition, 

Then  is  Fed'ral  Prohibition, 

Which  denies  this  right  accorded 

To  the  governmental  unit 

By  the  local  option  doctrine 

Wrong,  unjustified  and  vicious! 

I  will  help  to  kill  the  serpents, 
I  will  help  to  kill  their  keepers, 
Those  who  raised  them,  those  who  fed  them 
And  made  profit  from  their  deadly 
Ravages  among  the  people, 
As  the  Prophet  on  Mt.  Carmel 
Slew  the  priests,  the  Baal-adorers, 
Until  Kishon  turned  to  crimson 
From  the  sanguinary  slaughter. 
With  the  sword  of  Prohibition 
Only  can  they  be  beheaded, 
You  can  only   scotch  the   serpents 
By  the   local  option   process. 
Let  our  friends  and  not  our  foemen 
Swing  the  sword  that  knows  no  mercy 
On   this  universal  villain 
And  his  backers  and  protectors. 

Let  the   Prohibition  edict, 
Shouted   by   an  outraged  nation, 
Set  the  seal  of  death  upon  them. 
Then  amend  the  Constitution 
To  prevent  a  resurrection. 
Use   the   Federal  amendment 

110 


As  the  spike  to  nail  the  coffin, 
Bar  the  sepulchre  and  seal  it! 

Shall  I  ask  less  than  the  limit 
Lest    some    fellow    sneer    '  Reformer '  ? 
Shall  some  '  half-loaf '  compromiser 
Stay  my  hand  a  single  minute? 
Shall  I  pause  because  '  good '  people 
Pass  by  daily  without  protest, 
Silent    as    Egyptian   mummies? 
They  were  silent  when  I  needed 
All  the  help  that  they  could  give  me, 
Yea,  my  foemen  crouched  behind  them 
In   their   efforts   to   destroy  me 
And  took  refuge  in  their  shadows! 
Shall  I  wait  till  others  join  me? 
Shall  I  sheath  my  sword  till  many 
Make   a    mighty   triumph   certain? 
Shall  I   camp   with   compromisers 
While  ten  thousand  men  are  dying? 
If  I  vote  as  they  are  voting 
Then  this  sin  shall  live  forever. 
If  they  vote  as  I  am  doing 
It  shall  die  at  this  election. 
Who  is  right  and  who  in  error?" 


August  20,  1915. 


The  Seven  States  * 

The  seven  sov'reign  seals 

Of   seven   Commonweals 
Are  set  in  solemn  sanction  on  the  documents  of  doom; 

Like   seven  shining  suns 

And  seven   morning  guns 
They   greet    the    year    new-risen    and    they    dissipate    the 
gloom ! 


*On  New  Year's  Day  absolute  Prohibition,  which  had  previously 
been  voted  on,  became  effective  in  seven  States,  to-' wit:  Colorado, 
Washington,    Oregon,    Arkansas,    Iowa,    Idaho    and    South    Carolina. 

Ill 


Oh,  hail  the  mighty  writs, 
Revoking  sin-permits 
For  liquor's   ruthless   plunderers   to   scourge   the   peaceful 
plains ; 
The  edict  that  denies 
The  license  compromise, 
The    Herod-Pilate    covenants    that    cursed    their    fair    do- 
mains ! 

Oh,  chant  a  vict'ry  song 

Of  right  against  the  wrong 
Like  Deborah  and  Miriam  with  their  triumphant  lips; 

And  let  the  cannon's  cheer 

Reecho  far  and  near 
Like    mighty    peals    of    thunder    from    contending    battle- 
ships ! 

Oh,  seven  tall  and  grand 

Bright   candle-sticks   that   stand 
New-lighted   'roundabout   our   fair   Columbia,  the   Great, 

Whose  hand  is  full  of  stars, 

Whose  girdle,  crimson  bars 
Upon  the  ermine  mantle  of  the  world's  sublimest  State! 

The  glory  of  the  fields 

In    seven   sacred   shields 
Upon  your  clean  escutcheons   is  beautiful  and  grand, 

Like  seven  hues  that  blend 

In    shining   bows   that   bend 
And  gleam   with   hope   and   promise   o'er   a   shower-chas- 
tened land ! 

Oh,  liquor-cleansed  and  pure, 

You  are  the  Cynosure 
And  waymark  to  your  sister   stars  in  statehood's  vaulted 
sky ; 

As  you  are  rendered  free 

So  must  they  shortly  be 
Or  in  its  morning  hours  shall  this  lordly  nation  die! 

January  1,  1916. 

112 


Our   Party 


We  hold  to  our  high  goal 
To  win  a  Nation's  soul 

And  heal  its  woe, 
And  to  attain  this  end 
We  work  with  ev'ry  friend, 

Fight    ev'ry    foe ! 

We  will  submerge  our  name 
(We   never  sought   for  fame) 

Yea,  we  will  die 
If  free  from  foam  to  foam 
And  from  the  Nation's  dome 

Our   flag   may   fly! 

A  Prohibition  land, 

The  vote  in  woman's  hand, 

Is  our  quest ; 
Upon   the   seven   seas 
We  seek  all  good,  but  these 

Above   the   rest! 

We  nail  our  ensign  fast 
To  the  top-gallant  mast 

Though    tempests    frown ; 
We   give   it   to  the  skies 
And  death  to  him  who  tries 

To  pull  it  down ! 

We  will  not  sail  a  craft 
That  shifts  from  fore  to  aft 

The  flag  that  flew 
In  glory  at  our  prow 
While   heroes,   sainted   now, 

Stood  leal  and  true! 

113 


For  love  of  those  we  serve 
We  will  not  bend  or  swerve 

Or  trim  a  sail; 
For  all  the  merchandise 
And  spoils  of  compromise 

Are  hopes  that  fail ! 

Unselfishly  we  stand 
To  manumit  our  land 

And  earn  its  thanks  ; 
Adventurers   in   vain 
Shall  seek  a  selfish  gain 

Within    our   ranks! 

The   sirens   we  resist, 

The  storm  and  fog  and  mist 

And    undertow 
And   all   the   shoals  and  bars 
And  all   the  shooting  stars 

Our    pilots   know! 

Against  the  homeland  Hun, 
Dire  as  the  evil  one 

Across  the  sea, 
Our  slogan  is  "  unite  " 
As   allies  in   the   fight 

For  Liberty  ! 


114 


Our  Constitutional  Amendment 

Oh,  solemn  fact, 
The  Fed'ral  pact 

Is  mute  and  still ; 
The  scroll   sublime 
Ignores  the  crime 

Of    endless    ill! 

Old    party    creeds 
And    party    deeds 

Are  doubly   dumb  ; 
No  law  they  seek 
No  word  they  speak 

Adverse   to  rum  ! 

But   gallant   band 
With  ballot  brand 

And  spears   agleain, 
Death  to  this  sin 
Shall  be  set  in 

The  law  supreme ! 

Yes,  day  shall  break 
And   right  shall   wake, 

And   strong  and   proud 
The   Charter's   page 
Sublime   and    sage 

Shall   speak  aloud! 

No    puny    wail 
To  stop  the  sale 

And  do  no  more, 
Nor   weakling   whines 
Be  in  those  lines, 

But   thunder's   roar! 


115 


January  5,  1916. 


The   great    Decree 
Must  never  be 

So  weakly  made 
That  coward  slaves 
Or    venal    knaves 

Can  e'er   evade ! 

But  walls  so  strong 
Xo    vested    wrong 

Can  penetrate, 
Xor   alien   band 
Xor  traitor  hand 

Unbar  the  gate! 

It   shall  defy 

The  wiles  they  try 

With    dire    intent  ; 
Above,  below, 
They  cannot  go 

Nor  circumvent  ! 

The   tablets  bright 
With   laws  of  light 

linst    the   dark 
And  blighting  sin 

We'll  place   within 

The  Xation's  ark  1 


116 


The  Battle  Imminent 

(For  the   Prohibition   Amendment) 

It  is  the  Dawn 

The  lines   are   drawn 

On  eight  and  forty  plains, 
From  deep  to  deep 
O'er  the  wide  sweep 

Of  Freedom's  fair  domains! 

To  one  and  all 

The  bugles  call 
That  never  blew  retreat, 

The    Reveille 

Of   Victory 
Eternal  and  complete! 

None  are  exempt, 
And   dire   contempt 

Shall   be   the   slacker's    share, 
And   those   who  faint 
Shall    treason's    taint 

To  kith  and   kindred  bear! 

The   hosts  of  Day 
And    Night's    array — 

The   white   and   ebon   plume- 
Hold   in  their  hand 
For  our  loved  land 

Deliverance  or  doom! 

Our    khaki    sons 
Who  fight  the  Huns 

Face  not  a  fiercer  foe 
Or   baser    brute 
Of  lust  and  loot 

Than   we  must  overthrow! 

117 


Brave  yeomen  now 

Forsake  the  plow 
On  the  Decisive  Day : — 

Your   fallow  fields 

With    tenfold   yields 
Shall   wave   after   the   fray! 

And  school  and  shop, 

"  Over    the    top  " 
With  hand  grenade  and  steel 

And   cleanse   and   purge 

The  liquor  scourge 
From   our   great    Commonweal! 


Dr.   Ira  Landrith 

Like  the  great  Sun  breaking  through, 
Making  diamonds  of  the  dew 

With  his  smile, 
As  the  birds  in  boundless  | 
Sing  the  Morning  Reveille 

All   the   while. 

So  this  sun-crowned,   kindly  king 
Comes  in  superb  state  to  bring 

Peace    and    light 
To  a  troubled,  gloom-gripped  world 
'Neath    the   sable   flags   unfurled 

By  the  Night! 

Welcome   as   the  jocund   Spring, 
The   sweet    Summer   heralding, 

Is    his    face, 
And    with   joy  the   longing   ear 
Hears  his  sun-land  songs  of  cheer 

Ev'ry    place ! 

118 


DR.   IRA  LANDRITH 
1'iohibition    Candidate    for    Vice    President.    1916 


Potent  is  his  genial  glance 
As   the   dark-dispelling  lance 

Of  the  Dawn, 
And  before  him  Doom  and  Doubt 
And   despair   in   panic   rout 

Are  withdrawn ! 

Victory  on   wings  outspread, 
Hope,   with   sunlight   helmeted, 

Faith    aglow, 
Come  to  cleave  the  casques  of  gloom 
Trampling  down  the  ebon  plume 

Of  the  foe! 

His    be   an    eternal    day, 

Never  cease   his   sunshine   sway 

O'er  the  earth, 
Rifting  wide   Despair's   dark  pall, 
Giving  to  those  in  its  thrall 

A  new  birth! 

October  25,   1916. 

(Written  en  route  the  Hanly-Landrith  Transcontinental 
Prohibition  Special  Train.) 


The  Noblest  Deed 

(On   ratification  of  National  Prohibition  Amendment  by 
Illinois   Legislature.) 

Heroic    State 

Sublime  and   great 
Your  noblest  deed  is  done, 

Although  your  brave 

Sons  freed  the  slave 
And  smote  the  soulless  Hun! 

119 


No  brutal  deed 

Of    Berlin's  breed 
On   Belg'um's  blood-soaked  sod, 

Or  bondman's   chain 

Wrought  woe  and  pain 
Like  Drink's  soul-searing  rod! 

A   fair  nurse  dies 

While  Mercy's  cries 
To  base  hearts   plead  in   vain  ; 

But    every    day 

Of  Rum's  red  sway 
A   thousand  souls   were  slain! 

The  State   House  dome 

In  Lincoln's   home 
Crowned  with  sun-glinted  gold 

Lifts    high    a    bright 

Resplendent    light 
For  all  eyes  to  behold! 

The  scroll  of   fame 

Shall    hear  the   name 
Of    the    law-makers    sage 

Who    wrote    the    law 

Without  a   flaw 
On  the  Great  Charter's  page! 

The  Fiend  is  dead ; 

No  guilty  red 
Defiles  the  robe  of  State, 

But    snowy    clean 

Its    silken    sheen 
Is   now    immaculate  ! 


January  14,  1919. 


120 


M  Consummatum   Est  M 

(On    completion    of    ratification    of    Prohibition    Amend- 
ment to  Federal  Constitution.) 

The  "  Consummatum  Est  "  is  said  ; 
The  fight  is  finished  and  the  law 
Fulfilled   that   those   choice    spirits   saw 

Before  whose  torches  darkness  fled! 

The  solemn  sentence  of  the  Cross 
Today   proclaims   a   nation    free 
From   Drink's  long,   dark   Gethsemane 

Of  tragedy  and  woe  and  loss! 

COLUMBIA    with    outstretched    hands 
That  touch    the   nation -sundered  seas 

Unfurls  her  free  flag  to  the  breeze 
And   robed  in   spotless  samite  stands 

With  Freedom's  sunlight  in  her  face 

And  Earth's  white  mantle  at  her  feet 
Majestic  and   superbly    sweet 

A  queen  of  loveliness  and  grace  ! 

Aflame  in   her  tiara   shine 

Her  eight  and  forty  flawless  gems 
More    precious    than    all    diadems 

Or   El    Dorado's   richest    mine! 

Benignantly   she    speaks   to    those 

Who  fought  her  battles  hard  and  long 
When  Right  was  weak  and  Evil  strong 

And  Victory  was  with   her  foes! 

"  O  mighty  and  unbending  oaks 

That  fixed,  serene  and  rooted  fast, 
To  all  the  four  winds  faced  the  blast 

And  took  the  flaming  lightning  strokes! 

121 


"  O  true  defenders  of  my  home, 
0  propagandists  leal  and  brave 
Who  stood  like  rocks  against  the  wave 

And  dashed  the   foe  to  froth   and  foam! 

"  While  lesser  men  held  you  in  scorn 

You  lighted  the  first  flame  of  Dawn, 
You  kept  the  sable  shades  withdrawn 

Through  which  emerged  the  full-robed  Morn  1 

"  Brave  hero  graves  down  the  dark  past 
Are  sacred  milestones  on  the  march 
That  led  to  the  Triumphal  Arch 

Which    their    prophetic    souls    forecast! 

"O  soldiers  of  the  snow-white  plume 

Who  broke  my  chains  and  set  me  free 
Thou  shall  behold  from  sea  to  sea 

A   mighty   nation  burst  in   bloom! 

"The  wounds  and  scara  of  Drink's  base  Hun 
That   rampant   ravaged   this  dear   land 
Shall  heal  beneath  Time's  kindly  hand 

And  smiles  of   Hope's   eternal  Sun! 

"  An   Eden  spot  shall  be  my  home, 
A   garden   of    Hesperides 
My   ships   shall  sail  the   seven   seas 

The   flowers   of   the    fields  of   foam! 

"  The  fame  of  your  great  deeds  shall  glow 
Like  rainbows  on  the  storm  that's  past 
As  long  as   Memory  shall  last 

And  tides  of  Ocean  ebb  and  flow! 

"  Today  a  State  you  made  sublime 

Pours  out   to  you  its  heartfelt  thanks 
As  Jordan  overflows  its  banks 

In   grateful   floods    at   harvest    time!" 

January  16,  1919. 

122 


The  Pen  of  Hanly 

A  baton  in  a  Master  hand, 
More  potent  than  the  sword, 

A  jewelled  scepter   to   command 
The    lofty    major    chord! 

The  poet's  beauty-woven  words. 

The   artist's   lines   of   grace, 
The  melody  of  singing  birds, 

The    smile   of    Nature's    face; 

The  solemn  awe  of  mountain  crests 
White  with  sun-glinted  snow, 

The  passions  that  heave  human  breasts 
With  tides  of  joy  and  woe; 

The  thunder  of  Niag'ra's  roar, 

The   silent  sweep  of   stars, 
The  tumult  of  the  fields  of  war, 

The  moaning  ocean  bars; 

The  dirges  of  the  sobbing  sea, 

The   Sunset's  song  of  gold, 
The   rosy   Morning's   Reveille, 

The  scroll  of  Night  unrolled  ; 

Marshalled  on  the  printed  page 

Delight  us  e'en  as   when 
Great   orchestras   upon   the   stage 

Lift   up  the   souls   of   men, 

When  all  the  sons  of  song  respond, 

And  all  the   minstrels  meet 
In   unison    the   master's   wand 

In   symphony   complete  ! 

Sing  and  write,   O  master  pen, 
Your  songs  sublime   and   great, 

Directing    with    a    Prophet's    ken 
The   conscience  of  a   State! 

123 


The  Fifty  Years'  War 

1869-1919 

This   is   the   year   that    young   men   come 
In   triumph   home  from  glorious  war 

With  Victory  won 

O'er    the    brute    Hun 
Who  scarred  and   scourged  an  alien   shore! 

This  is  the  year  that  old  men  come 
From    longer    wars    with    fiercer    i 

The  Huns  whose  brand 

Scourged    the    Home-Land 
With   baser   scars  and    deeper   woes! 

In  the  fresfa  Spring  of  Youth  they  went. 
No  drums,  no  plumes,  no  lusty  cheers 

To  help   sustain 

Their    long   campaign 
Of  truccless  war  for  fifty  year-! 

At  the   mid-watch   of  Drink's  black   Might, 
From  a  dark  City  of  the  Plain, 

They   marched   away 

To   the   great    fray 
Against   the  felon  hordes  of  Cain! 

The  foemen  camped  within  the  lines 

And  boldly  on  their  shields  displayed 

The  mighty  seal 

The    Commonweal 
Had  set  upon  the  pirate  trade! 

Armed  with  his  evil  law  the  Hun 

Ran  his  red  raids  from  coast  to  coast 

With  but   a  true 

And  valiant   few 
To  measure  swords  with  all  his  host! 


124 


As  noble  Poland  would  not  bend 

Or   bleeding   Belgium   bow   the   head 

Or  brave  France  yield 

Her  lilied   field 
To   the   despoiler's    loathsome    tread, 

They  gave  no  quarter  to  the  foe, 

They  knew  no  flag  of  truce  with  wrong, 

Their  battle  cry 

"  The  fiend  must  die  " 
Was   morning  and   the   evening   song! 

Their  bosoms  took  the  hostile  spears 
Of  press  and  pulpit,  pew  and  priest, 

And   poisoned   stings 

Of  hirelings 
Who  servile  served  the  rampant  beast! 

They  grew  gray  in  the  ceaseless  strife, 

Unmarked  they  sank  beside  their  shields 

Xo  flowers  bloom 

Above  their  tomb 
As  poppies  grow  in  Flanders'  Fields! 

The  Night  and  Silence  shrouded  them, 
No   martial   bugles   blew   farewell, 

And  men  marked   not 

The  hallowed  spot 
Upon  the   red   fields   where   they   fell! 

Even  in  scorn  'twas  said  of  them, 
"As  the  fool  dieth,  lo,  they  died," 

They    threw   away 

Their  lives  to  stay 
The  onward  sweep  of  Drink's  dark  tide! 

But  not  a  hero  dies  in  vain, 

And  not  for  naught  do  martyrs  bleed, 

In   the  great  plan 

That  governs  man 
Good   harvests   spring   from  goodly   seed ! 

125 


A  stripling  shepherd  in  a  brook 

Sought  a  smooth  pebble  for  his  sling, 

And  in    its  path 

The  King  of  Gath 
Fell  in   his  boastful  blaspheming! 

But  this  small  stone  for  this  great  deed, 
While  Time  ran  on  in  joys  and  tears, 

A   little   rill 

On  Judah's  hill 
Had  polished  for  a  thousand  years! 

In    pleasant    retrospection    we 

Look  towards  the  Night  dispelled  by  Day 

And  think  again 

Of   those    brave   men 
Who    perished   in   the    far-olT    fray  ! 

We   lay  the   flowers  of  our  love 

Upon   the  shrines  of  that   great  band 

Of  noble  dead 

Who   bravely   led 
But   did    not   see  the   Promised    Land! 

Our  love  and  cheers  we  give  to  those 

Who  saw  the  sable  shades  withdrawn 
And    now    behold 
'Mid    Sunset's   gold 
The   glories   of   this   mighty    Dawn ! 

(Written    for   Prohibition   Jubilee    Banquet   at    Morrison 
Hotel,    Chicago,    Illinois,    September    1,    1919.) 


126 


OLIVER   WAYNE   STEWART 

Prohibition    Member  of   Illinois    Legislature 
Chairman    Prohibition    National    Committee 

Prohibition  National  Campaign   Manager,   V)\G 


Oliver  Wayne  Stewart 

A  drummer  boy  in  the  Old  Guard 

That  held  the  line  through   the  long  Night 

He   rose   through   service   stern    and   hard 
To  leadership  in  the  Great  Fight! 

The  charge  of  forlorn  hope  he  beat 
Upon  a  hundred  hard-fought  fields, 

Yet  never  sounded  the  retreat 

Before   the   foe's   o'erwhelming   shields! 

A   gray   and   grizzled   vet'ran    now, 

His   forty  years  of   battles   set 
In   splendor  on   his   laurelled   brow 

Like   a   bejewelled   coronet! 

In  council  calm,  in  combat  keen, 
To  deeds  of  daring  nerved  and  steeled 

An  eagle  in  the  blue  serene, 
A  lion   rampant  in  the  field! 

The   Long   Roll   of   the   Great    Reform 

Upon  its  rich  emblazoned  scroll 
Shall  star  this  soldier  of   the   storm, 

This   noble   and  intrepid   soul! 


127 


Eugene  Wilder  Chafin 


He  was  the  heavy  battery  of  the  long,  long  drive, 
That   had   the   range   unerring  of   the   stronghold   of   his 
foes 
And  whose  never-ceasing  thunders  kept  our  flagging  hopes 
alive 
And    cheered    on    the     halting    columns    to     re-doubled 
blows ! 

Like   the   great   Lawgiver  with   the   glowing   tablet   stones 
Hot  and  smoking  still  from  Jehovah's  awful  hand 

With  His  decrees  and  judgments  told   in   thunder  tones 
He  read  the  law  aright  to  a  Drink  beleagured  land! 

Statesman,   seer   and   soldier,   in   forum,   field   and   court 
With   wit   and   wholesome   humor  and  noble   speech   en- 
dowed, 

He   was   Hope   incarnate   through   ill  and   ill-report, 
And  calm  in  the  confusion  and  chaos  of  the  crowd! 

While  the  mighty  echoes  of  the  Victory  were  yet 
Reverberating  clear  across  a  gladdened  land 

With  his  ensign   flying  from  the   foemen's  parapet 

He  died  like  a  warrior  with  his  sword  still  in  his  hand. 

In   the   Gallery   Resplendent   of   Prohibition's   great, 
Whose  lofty  works  do  follow  though  their  labors  cease, 

Cut   in    Parian   marble   white    and   immaculate 
He  shall  stand  a  pure  and  flawless  masterpiece! 


128 


IN  MEMORIAM 


EUGENE  WILDER  CHAFIN 

Prohibition    Candidate    for    President    1908    and    1912 


Lovisa  M.  Steck 

A  woman  gracious  and  refined, 

A   soul   genteel    and   strong, 
Whose  life  was  music  that  combined 

A  psalm  and  martial  song! 

A  wearer  of  the  sacred   sign 

Of  Hope  through  Drink's  dark  years- 
The  pure  White   Ribbon,  made  divine 

By  woman's  prayers  and  tears! 

As  one  who  felt  her  noble  zeal 
And  the   impulse  of  her  life 

Serene  and  calm,  in  woe   and  weal, 
That  cheered  him  in  the  strife, 

In    Memory  sweet  as  chiming  bells 

And  flowers  in  full  bloom, 
A   wreath  of  snow-white  immortelles 

I   lay   upon    her   tomb ! 


129 


To  a  Veteran   Prohibitionist 

(Rev.    Walter    L.    Ferris) 

A  noble  man,  in  word  and  deed, 
Of    Phillips-Sumner-Lovejoy    breed, 

Cast    in    heroic    mould, 
Indicting  sin  with  tongue   of   flame, 
As  Nathan  did  King  David's  shame, 

Unflinchingly    and    bold! 

A  man  of  sun  and  kindly  light, 

Yet  stem  as  Cromwell   for  the  right, 

In    every   crisis   true, 
Foursquare  he  stands  upon   the  Rock 
That  through  the  ages  stood  the  shock 

Of    every    blast    that    blew! 

The   Slavery   of    Drink   he   saw 
On   every   hand   upheld  by  law 

And  sanctioned  for  a  fee; 
He  saw   the   Church.   God's   sentry,   sleep 
Before  the  vile  invaders'  sweep, 

Or  crook  the  craven  knee! 

With   nobk-   anger  at   white   heat 
He  blew  the  "  Reveille  "  and  beat 

'•\s>embly"   and   "To  Arms," 
And  men  with  new  impulse  of  soul 
Sprang  up  and  answered  to  the  roll 

At    his    warlike    alarms! 

Brave  man.  who  scorned  all  compromise, 
The   hundred    headed   hydra   lies 

Before  you  cold  and  stark 
As  at  Ashdod  in  Samuel's  day 
In  ghastly  death   old   Dagon   lay 

Before    Jehovah's    ark! 

130 


IX    MKMORIAM 


REV.   WALTER    L.    FERRIS 
Pastor  of  Wheaton  College  Church.  Wheaton.   Illinois 


Upon  your  Winter  whitened  brow 

The  scarred   and   battered   helmet,   now, 

Marked  by  the   foeman's  steel, 
Is  a   resplendent   coronet 
Gemmed  with  stars  that  shall  not  set, 

O    warrior,   loved  and  leal! 

We  come,  who  know  and  love  you  best, 
And  pin   a  flower  on   your  breast, 

Of    never-fading   bloom, 
And  old  comrade  and  new  recruit 
Stand   at    attention    and   salute 

A  knight  from  spur  to  plume! 


October  10,  1922. 


131 


His   Armistice 
Rev.  Walter  L.  Ferris 

(Died   Armistice    Day,    1925) 

At  Dawn  of  the  Great  Day  of  Peace 
A  warrior  spirit  found  release 

From   service   long  and   true, 
Bearing  honored  battle  scars 
Pure  as  the  unsullied  stars 

In  Heaven's  vaulted  blue ! 

He  won  a  Cross  of  War  more  high 
Than  that  for  which  men  dare  to  die 

In   sanguinary   strife, 
His  chevrons  were  of  the  Great  Fight 
Of  soldiers  loyal  to  the  Light 

On   every   field   of   Life! 

The  noble  ranks  are  growing  thin 
Of  those  who  smote  the  Nation's  Sin 

When   Drink  was  on  the  throne; 
A  giant  in  the  battles  then, 
The  faith  and  zeal  and  strength  of  ten 

Were  in  this  man  alone! 

Above  the  bays  of  fading  Fame 
The  chaplet  of  a   stainless  name 

Encircles  his  pale  brow; 
"God's    finger   touched    him    and    he   slept" 
As  sleeps  a  saint  who  humbly  kept 

Inviolate    his   vow! 


132 


ALONZO    I'-.    Wli 


Prohibition    Nfember  of   Illi:iui>   Legislature   1W4 

Chairman  Illinois  State  Prohibition  Committee 


The  Knight  of  the  Prairies 

(Alonzo  E.  Wilson) 

For   thirty   years    this   warrior   blew 
A  clarion  clear,  a  trumpet  true, 

Across  the  Prairie  State; 
So  clear,  so  true,  by  day  and  night, 
It  kept  the  sword  unsheathed  and  bright 

Nor  let  the  strife  abate  ! 

From  where  the  Great  Lake's  billows  beat 
To   where    the    two   great   rivers    meet 

His   vigil   never   ceased, 
He  sought  the  red  wolf  everywhere, 
In  city   den   and   prairie  lair, 

And    smote    the    rampant    beast! 

He   rode   the  long,  lone  prairie   plain 
When  Winter  spread  its  counterpane 

Of  ermine  cold  and  deep, 
And  when  the  North  Wind  in   his  wrath 
Had   leveled   all  things   in   the   path 

Of  his  relentless  sweep! 

In   rural  school,  by   wayside   well, 
His  words  like  martial  measures  fell 

And  set  men's  souls  aglow, 
And  on  the  closed  church  doors  he  nailed 
His  challenge  and  their  sin  assailed 

Who  licensed  the   red  woe! 

He  saw  the  great,  ripe  fields  of  corn 
Of  all   their  golden  glory  shorn 

To   feed   the   poison   still; 
He  saw  the  boundless  wealth  of  food 
Into  a  deadly  potion   brewed 

That   wrought  unceasing   ill! 

133 


And   he   beheld  on   every   hand 
The   spotted   fever    of   the    land — 

The  wine  room's  open  door — 
Breathe  on  the  prairie  towns  its  blight 
And  with  its  vile  miasma  smite 

And   plague  the  cities  sore ! 

And  with  the  wrath  of  noble  men 
That  gives  to  one  the  strength  of  ten 

At    forefront    of    the    fray 
Where  brave  and  knightly  deeds  were  wrought, 
Like   Paul   at   Ephesus,  he   fought 

The  wild  beasts  of  our  day  ! 

O,  not  in  vain  your  burning  plea, 

For  now  your   much-loved   plain   is    free, 

Knight   of  the   Great    Reform; 
Those  bitter  years  are  memories  proud, 
Bright    rainbows    painted    on    the   cloud 

Of  the   receding  storm  ! 


October,   1922. 


134 


ROBERT    II.    PATTON 

Prohibition    Candidate    for    Governor    of    Illinois 

Prohibition   State   Chairman    of    111 


Robert   H.   Patton 

(Springfield,    Illinois) 

Great  lawyer-leader  of   the   Plain 
Of  glowing  heart  and  mighty  brain 

And  noble  poise  of  soul 
Who  wrought   to  make   immaculate 
O  Illinois,  thy  robe  of  State, 

And  ermine  white  thy  scroll! 

Thou  hast  not  known  a  truer  knight 
In  all  the  long  unceasing  fight 

Against  thy  basest  foes 
No  stronger  arm,  no  keener  steel, 
No  mace  or   lance  or  blade  to  deal 

More  stern  and   deadly  blows! 

Through  the  Night  and  the  dark  Day 
He   did   not   falter   in    the    fray 

But  led   with   snowy  plume 
And   battle    cry    and    martial    song 
Against  the  hordes  of  licensed  Wrong 

That  sought   the   Nation's   doom! 

The   sunlight   of  the  better  days 
To  come  shall  be  eternal  bays 

Resting    upon    his    brow 
To  compensate  the  years  of  strife 
To  which  he  pledged  a  noble  life 

And  kept  the  faithful  vow! 

Sweet  music  and  the  songs  of  joy 
Shall  sweep  thy  plains,  O,  Illinois, 

And  golden   decades   roll 
Across    a    Drink-delivered   land 
Because   of   the   intrepid   stand 

Of  this  heroic  soul! 

135 


Dan  R.  Sheen 

(Peoria,   Illinois) 

"  But  Daniel  purposed  in  his  heart  that  he  would  not  de- 
file himself  with  the  portion  of  the  king's  meat  nor  with 
the  wine  which  he  drank." 

O   City  of  ten  thousand   stills 

Engirdled   by  great   fields  of  corn, 

Among    your    poison    making    mills 
A  Prophet  and  a  Prince  was  born! 

He  knew  the   Serpent's   slimy  coil. 

He  felt  the  breath  of  blight  and  bane 
And    saw   it    wither   and   despoil 

The  fairest  flowers  of  the  Plain! 

He  saw  strong  Youth  under  its  cloud, 
He  saw  bright  minds  in  dark  eclipse, 

And   Genius   in   dishonor   bowed, 
And  Poverty  with  pallid  lips! 

He  saw  judicial  robes  defiled 

And  drunkards  in  the  Halls  of  State, 

The  Toga  stained,  Reason  exiled, 
And    Statemanship   inebriate! 

He  saw  corrupt  and  craven  knees 

Of  venal  Press,  of  priests  and  pews, 

Bend  abject  for  the  guilty  fees 

That  sordid  souls  could  not  refuse! 

But  Daniel  purposed  in  his  heart 
And    registered    his   vow    on    high 

That  ere  his  spirit  should  depart 

The  Fiend  and  all  his  works  must  die! 

136 


DAX  R.  SHEEX 

Prohibition    Member    of    Illinois    Legislature 
Prohibition   Candidate   for   Governor  of   Illinois 


In  youth  he  signed  the  muster-roll 
Enlisting  for  the  life-long  fight, 

And    served    with    fortitude    of    soul 

'Til  boyish  locks  were  snowy  white! 

On  the  long  march  he  led  the  van  — 
The  column  that  would  never  halt — 

Both  brave  to  strike  and  wise  to  plan 
In  weary  siege  and   fierce   assault! 

He   fought   the   serpents   in   their   fens, 
He  trailed  them  by  their  poison  path, 

He  entered  the  old  Dragon's  dens 
Unmindful  of  his  roars  of  wrath! 

Now   war's   alarms   are    peaceful    hells 
And   never   fading   chaplcts   now 

Of  amaranth  and  immortelles 

Repose  upon  his  valiant  brow  ! 

The  marble   pillar,  flawless   white, 

Where    Prohibition's    Roll  of    Fame 
Is   cut   in    characters   of    light 

In  bold  relief  blazons  his  name  ! 


On  the  Death  of 

William  Jennings  Bryan 

"  Know  ye  not  that  a  prince  and  a  great  man  has  fallen 
this  day  in  Israel  ?  " 

Superb  Christian  Crusader  in  this  new  Holy  Land 

Against  the   new   day  Infidel  inside  of  Zion's  gate. 

The  noble  lance  is  now  at  rest  within  a  nerveless  hand 
But  the  propulsion  of  his  soul  shall  not  one  jot  abate  1 

137 


In  Death  that  kindly  makes  all  unkind  words  untrue 

Calm  Justice  brings  the  chaplets  of  the  world's  acclaim 

And  Honor  writes  him  on  the  scroll  of  the  immortal  few 
And   Truth    lays    on    his    shrine    the    fadeless    bays    of 
fame ! 

For  thirty  years  his  bivouac  was  upon  the  battle-field, 
He  loved  the  smell  and  tang  of  smoke  and  reveled  in 
the  storm, 
With    snow    white    plume    and    panoply    and    scarred    and 
dented   shield 
He  led  the  conquering  columns  in  the  warfare  of  Re- 
form ! 

Great  were  the  battles  that   he   fought  for  those  who  la- 
bor  long, 
And  splendid  was  his  service  on  every  moral  plain, 
Magnificent   the   mace   that   helped   to  crush   the  crowning 
Wrong 
And    stay    the    plague    of    Drink's    vile    and    malignant 
reign  ! 

His  soul  was  only  combative  and  militant  for  Good, 

In    Statesmanship   sublime    he    strove   that   cruel    wars 
should  cease, 
He   wisely   wove   and   welded   well   the   bonds   of   brother- 
hood 
And  knit  a  score  of  Nations  in  noble  pacts  of  peace  1 

A  bold  Defender  of  the  Faith  and  Warrior  for  the  Word, 
Undoubting   and    undaunted    by    the    men    who    madly 
mock, 
With  flaming  zeal  unquenched  and  purpose  undeterred 
With    adamantine    steadfastness    he    stood    upon    The 
Rock! 

The   valedictory   we   speak   is   but   to  crumbling  clay, 

His  spirit  rides  the  ramparts  of  every  righteous  fight, 

His  voice  is  in  the  chorus  of  the  dawning  Better  Day 
That   shall   flood   the   years   to   be   with   a   resplendent 
light! 

July  31,  1925. 

138 


CLIXTOX   X.   HOWARD 
Noted    Prohibition    Leader 


Clinton  N.  Howard 

Here  is  the  sling  of  David  that  in  Jehovah's  name 
Sent  his  hissing  missile  to  the  brain  of  Gath, 

Here  is  bold  Isaiah's  fearless   tongue  of  flame 

That  seared  and  shriveled  sin  in  its  consuming  wrath! 

Like  lion-souled  Elijah  on  Carmel  by  the  Sea 
Who   mocked   and   slew   the   priests   that    ministered   to 
Baal, 

He  smote  this  mighty  nation's  base  idolatry 
That  drew  a  thousand  terrors  in  its  tragic  trail! 

The  Sin  that  sold  the  sanction  of  a  sovereign  State 
To  poison  and  pollute  the  crystal  stream  of  Life 

He   met   with   righteous   fury  and   a   noble   hate 
Nor  let  the   sun  go   down  upon   the  truceless   strife! 

A  Luther  in   defiance,  a  Cromwell   in   his  zeal, 
In  field  and  camp  and  council  in  himself  a  host, 

A    knight    without    a    scabbard — who    never   sheathed   his 
steel, 
A  never-sleeping  sentry  at  the  danger  post! 

In  the  Hall  of  Heroes  of  the  Prohibition  War, 
Blessed  with  the  benediction  of  a  grateful  land, 

While  the  Demon,  dead  as  Dagon,  plagues  the  earth   no 
more, 
In  Time  enduring  bronze  and  marble  he  shall  stand! 


139 


BOOK  II 
Poems  of  the  Great  War 


Introduction 

Nearly  all  of  the  POEMS  OF  THE  GREAT  WAR  were 
printed  in  1919  under  the  title  of  THE  KHAKI  HOSTS. 
The  introduction  to  that  book  by  Judge  Charles  D.  Clark 
is  reproduced   here  and  is   as   follows: 

The  City  of  Wheaton  will  ever  regard  with  a  just  pride 
"THE  ROLL  RESPLENDENT  "  of  its  boys  whose  names 
appear  herein.  Their  service  was  loyal  and  true  and  their 
sacrifices  were  even  unto  their  lives.  Nor  will  Wheaton 
forget  its  other  boys  who  though,  when  called,  answered 
"  Here  am  I,"  yet  could  not  be  taken.  Neither  will  it  for- 
get its  fathers  and  mothers,  brothers  and  sisters,  who 
kept  the  home  fires  burning  and  made  such  an  "  Honor 
Roll  "  possible. 

Among  the  splendid  supporters  of  the  "  Khaki  Roys " 
was  Frank  E.  Herrick,  the  author  of  the  verses  here  col- 
lected. Judge  Herrick  was  born  on  a  DuPage  County 
farm,  is  a  graduate  of  Wheaton  College,  and  has  filled 
various  positions  of  public  trust  and  confidence.  He  is 
the  author   of  "  Prohibition    Poems  "  and  other   verse. 

During  those  days  of  the  world's  great  conflict  when 
it  looked  dark  and  the  result  doubtful,  then  it  was  that 
Mr.  Herrick,  through  his  own  fine  spirit  and  faith,  helped 
to  sweep  away  our  doubts  and  cheer  our  faltering  strength. 
James  Russell  Lowell  said:  "A  poet  must  needs  be  before 
his  own  age  in  order  to  be  even  with  posterity."  Judge 
Herrick  is  such  a  poet.  Long  years  ahead  he  saw  our  na- 
tion freed  from  the  curse  of  strong  drink;  and  now,  again 
looking  into  the  future  he  sees  it  taking  a  great  part  in 
a  world  that  will,  because  of  the  fine  courage,  spirit  and 
patriotism  of  "  The  Khaki  Hosts,"  grow  better  as  the  years 
go  bv. 


143 


Dedication 

To  the  City  of   Wheaton 

0  little   City  that  sent   forth 

A  loyal  legion  of  brave  sons 

From    your    confines 

To  break  the  lines 
And  turn  the  tides  against  the  Huns; 

To   you    who   wears    the   thirteen   stars 
Of   chastened   gold   inviolate, 

This   book  of   rhymes 

Born  of  war-times 
In   grateful   love    I   dedicate! 

1  saw  you  speed  them  forth  with  cheers 

On  to  the  frowning  fields  of  war 

And  in   their  care 

Repose   the   fair 
Bright  Emblem  that  we  all  adore! 

I  saw  your  Service  Flag  unfurled 

Resplendent  in  the  Sun  and  breeze, 

And  day  by  day 

It  bore  away 
My  thoughts  to  those  beyond  the  seas! 

I  saw  your  heroes  welcomed  home 

Back  to  the  hearth-stone  bright  and  warm 
With    service    bars 
And  battle   scars 
They  won  in  War's  consuming  storm! 

You  breathed  the  spirit  in  this  book, 
With  your  soul  is  the  page  replete 
Bound  in  this  brief 
Fresh   garnered  sheaf 
I  now  lay  at  your  loyal  feet ! 

144 


"  A  State  of  War  " 

0  starry  flag  that  loves  not  war, 
Nor  fears  to  see  his  hostile  face, 

That  loves   concord 

More  than  the  sword, 
Preferring  peace   with    every   race! 

The  buffets  and  the  blasts  of  those 

Who  sowed  and  schemed  to  waste  the  world 
Have  to  the  breeze 
Of   Freedom's   seas 
All  of  your  flaming  folds  unfurled! 

In   vain   was   patience   with   the   hot 

And  high-piled  insults  that  you  bore, 

While   Murder's   hand 

Crimsoned    the    land 
And  pirates  stained  the  seas  with  gore! 

The  friendship  of  a  hundred  years 

The   Teuton   tore  to   tattered   strands 

As  treaties  made 

And   disobeyed 
Were  "scraps  of  paper"   in  his   hands! 

In   days   of  peace   he  plotted   strife 

And  sought  to  make  our  friends  our  foes 

While  in   disguise 

His  lurking  spies 
Planned  how  to  deal  us  deadly  blows! 

Columbia's  murdered  sons,  tho  mute, 
And   her   flag-emblazoned    ships 
Beneath  the  seas 
Are  potent  pleas 
More  powerful  than  living   lips! 

145 


We  join  the  harnessed  nations'  fray, 
O   fearless   flag  our   fathers  gave, 
To  do  our  part 
With   hand  and   heart 
Beneath  thy  folds  on  land  and  wave! 

April  3,  1917. 

(On  reading  President  Wilson's  address  to  Congress  ask- 
ing for  a  declaration  of  a  state  of  war  with  Germany.) 


America  and  France 

Tune  :    America 

America    and    France, 
United  soul  and  lance 

As  in  old  days ; 
The    same    tri-color's   hue, 
The  same  red,  white  and  blue, 
Mow    covenant   anew 

For  Freedom's   frays! 

Beyond   the   ocean   bars 
The  lilies  and  the  stars 

Shall  face  the  foe 
As  on   this   western   shore 
Amid   the   shock   of   war 
They   stood   in   days  of   yore 

Thru  weal  and  woe! 

The  sons   of   Lafayette 
And  Washington   have   met 

To   make  the  light 
Of   priceless   Liberty 
Supreme   on    land    and    sea 
And   all  the   years  to  be 

A  reign   of   right! 

146 


Heroic   France,   we   come, 
'Roused  by  your  rolling  drum 

And   eagle's   cry, 
With  ocean-cleaving  keel, 
With  shard  and  shell  and  steel 
Until   your   foes   shall   reel 

And  fall  and  die! 


The  Flag  Unfurled 

A  city  unfurls  to   the   breeze 
The   blended   beauties   of   the   Day 

Of  azure  skies  and  tranquil  seas 
And   starry   Night's   serene   array! 

The  crimson  pennants  of  the  morn 
Stream  o'er  the  fields  immaculate 

Of  the  stainless  and  untorn 
And   seamless    emblem   of   the    State ! 

It  is   a  Nation's  open   scroll 

In   might  and   majesty   unfurled, 
The  voice  of  an   unfettered  soul 

Proclaiming   Freedom  to  the  world! 

Swift  our  screaming  eagle  band 

Shall    bear   it   to    the   clouds   of    war 

Where  stronger  storms  shall  but  expand 
Its  flaming  colors   more  and   more! 

Let  us  who  see  it  in  the  sky 

Or  by  our  brothers  borne  along 
Lift  loyal  heart  and  hand  and  eye 

With   meet   salute   and   shout   and   song! 

(Written  for  the  Wheaton,  Illinois,  flag-raising  on  July 
4,   1917) 


147 


The  Khaki  Hosts 

Today  the  tramp  to  the  trenches  starts 

And  a  tread  that  shall  shake  the  world 

Begins  today 

As   they   march   away 
With  the  star-set   flags   unfurled! 

The  stalwart,  sinewy  sons  of  the  soil 
The   pillars  of   peace   and  war, 

From  a  thousand  farms 

Bare  their  bronzed   arms 
For  the  fields  of  the  battle's  fore! 

From  learning's   lordly  halls  they  come 
With   red  blood   pulsing   free, 

A   nation's  pride 

To  lead  and  guide 
The  strife  of  the  days  to  be! 

Their  strong  heart-beats  are  battle  drums 
That  shall  fill  the   foe  with   fear 
Ere  he  shall  feel 
The  keen,  cold  steel 
When  the  khaki  hosts  draw  near! 

Honor  and  cheers  for  those  who  go 
In  the  glory  of  youth's  estate, 

And  heart  and  hand 

To    the    loyal    band 
That    holds    Columbia's   fate! 

September  19,  1917. 

(For    the    DuPage    County    farewell    reception    to    the 
camp-bound   soldiers) 


148 


MAUDE    J).    BUTLER 

Chairman  of  the  Wheaton  Auxiliary  to  the 
Chicago  Red  Cross  from  April,  1917,  to  Novem- 
ber, 1918.  Nine  hundred  twenty-five  women 
workers  were-  enrolled  in  the  Wheaton  organi- 
zation. 


The  Red  Cross 

A  drop  of  precious  blood  on  Mercy's  snow-white  hand 
That  checked  the  scarlet   tide   of  swiftly  ebbing  life; 

The  sign  upon  the  lintels  of  the  portals  of  our  land 

That  Death  may  pass  us  over  in  the  sanguinary  strife! 

Soul  of  the  Good  Samaritan  giving  his  oil  and  gold 
And  Filomena's   spirit  in  Crimea's  crimson  days, 

The    strength    of    woman's    nature    and    manhood's    noble 
mould 
Are  blended  like  the  glories  of  Aurora's  rising  rays! 

In  this  sign  we  conquer  all  the  hate  in  human  hearts, 
Beneath   its   benediction   the   bruised   and  broken   bow 

And  freely  among  friend  and  foe  its  healing  balm  it  parts 
And  lays  a  palm  of  peace  on  pain's  wild,  throbbing  brow ! 

Oh,    may    the    white    pavilions    where    our    better    natures 
dwell 
Escape  the  fiendish  fury  of  the  callous  soul  and  sear 
And  may  those   tents  of   Mercy  be  immune  to   bomb  and 
shell 
That  bear   the   blood-red   blazon   bright  and   chaste  and 
clear ! 


The  Liberty   Loan 

The   drum-fire   of  our   ringing  gold 
Shall  back  our  khaki  sons 
Who   face   with   zeal 
And    shard    and    steel 
The  hosts  of  brutal  Huns! 

Civilians  safe  from  war's  swift  shafts 
No    less    the    bugles    blow 

Shrill  reveille 

From  sea  to  sea. 
For  you  to  fight  the  foe ! 

149 


No  less  loud  stern  Duty's  drums 
Beat   the   assembly-call 

To  marts  and  mines 

To  brace   the   lines 
Of  those  who  offer  all ! 

The  gleaners  of  the  fields  of  peace 
Their  overflowing  urns 

Of    wealth    shall   pour 

For  Freedom's  war 
Till  lasting  peace  returns! 

O   Columbia's   myriad   men 
Freely,  gladly  give 

A   double    share 

While  others  dare 
To  die  that  we  might  live ! 

October  23,  1917. 

Herod  and  Pilate 

"And  the  same  day  Pilate  and  Herod  were  made  friends 

The  Crescent  and  the  Iron  Cross, 
Twin  demons   foul  and  fell, 

Have  wrought  a  work 

Through    Hun    and    Turk 
To   win   applause   from   Hell! 

The   Sultan  and   the   Blasphemer, 
The   "  Me   and    God "   war-lord, 
A   concordat 
Of  joint  combat 
Have  sworn  on  war's  red-sword! 

150 


They  made  a  Herod-Pilate  pact 
And  sealed  with  Christian  blood 
Of  the   Levant 
Their    covenant 
To  loose  the  crimson  flood ! 

Believers  in  the  Holy  Book 
The  Koran's  sword  shall  slay  , 
A  martyr   race 
It  may  efface 
As  Night  blots  out  the  Day! 

Yea,  the  lord  of  Luther's  land 
Sanctions  the  shame  of  shames, 

The   homicide 

That  nation-wide 
Armenia  proclaims! 

O  sleeping  swords  of  the  Crusades 
Leap   up   with   life   aglow 

And  smite  the  base 

Apostate  race 
That  joins  your  ancient   foe 

Oh,  cut  the  cruel  crescent  down 
And  break  the  Iron  Cross, 
The  giant  twins 
Of  countless  sins, 
And  cast  them  out  as  dross ! 


October  25,  1917. 


151 


Bride  and  Khaki  Groom 

To  the  bride  and  khaki  groom 

In  the  glory  and   the  bloom 
Of  the  valiant  and  the  fair  in   youth's  resplendent    May, 

A  salute  and  song  I  send 

Wherein  meet  and  merge  and  blend 
All  the  wishes  and  the  blessings  that  befit  a  wedding  day. 

Soldier,   whom    the    treach'rous    tide 

Soon  shall  sever  from  his  bride 
To  bear  the  flag  of  freedom  in  the  battle  with  the  Huns 

And   to  join   the   carnage  song 

Whose  wild  chorus  is  the  Itrong 
And  mighty  diapason  o!  the  thunder-throated  guns; 

Bride,  who   must  abide  at  home 

While  beyond   the   raging  foam 
Her  hero-captain  stands  beside  the  iron  guns  of  war; 

All  your  sundered  songs  shall  be 
your    heart's    antiphony 
Full  rounded   and   unbroken    by   the  battle's   din   and   roar. 

Fair  Columbia  in  pride 

Shall  behold  the  groom  and  bride, 
And  in  her  service  flag  shall  set  two  shining  stars, 

For  a  son  and  daughter  true 

Who  have  pledged  their  all  to  do 
Their  "bit"  in  lands  of  peace  and  on  the  fields  of  Mars. 


152 


BRIDE  AND  KHAKI   GR<  M  >\l 

Lieut.  John  F.  Conley  and  Miss  Lora  Belle 
Fox,  married  at  Gary  Memorial  M.  E.  Church, 
Wheaton,  Illinois,  December  7.  1(,17.  with 
military   ceremony. 


4  The  Republican  M  * 

A  coiled  and  couchant  copperhead 
Beneath   the   waving   stars 

In   war   unfurled 

Over  a  world 
Dark  with  the  frown  of  Mars! 

Breed  of   the   rebel   prototype, 
Spawn  of  the  poison  fang 
That  hiss  and  sting 
Where    soldiers    sing 
And  clashing  sabers  clang! 

Detested  traitor  in  the  camp, 
Aiding  the   alien   foes 

While   loyal   sons 

Stand   by   the   guns 
And  strike  the  deadly  blows! 

O  eagle  on  our  emblem's  crest, 
Swoop  down  in   screaming  wrath 

With   talons   bare 

And    rend   and    tear 
This  reptile  from  your  path  ! 

Mars  Ascendant 

Red    Mars    is    the    Morning    Star 
And   Hesper   red  and  clear, 
In    Orient 
And  Occident 
His  ruddy  shields  appear! 

In  Christian  and  in  heathen  skies 
His  scepter  holds   high  sway, 
A   crimson    path 
Of  death  and  wrath 
Runs  red  across  each  day! 


'Newspaper    mouthpiece    of    the    Mayor    of    Chicago. 

153 


He  shrouds  the  earth  in  dark  eclipse 
With    his   malignant    shield, 

As    clouds    that    run 

Athwart   the   Sun 
Throw  shadows  on  the  field! 

Beneath  his  fierce  and  angry  frown 
Ten    thousand    daily    die 

'Mid  the  world-wide 
Red    fratricide 
In    earth   and   sea  and   sky! 

May   the  new  year  see  him  set 
That    slays    the    hosts    of    men, 
Xor    East   or    \\ 
Behold  the  crest 

:    his    dark    helm   again! 


January   1,   1918. 


Norman  James  Tweedie 

A    city    sepultures    it- 

A   flower  fallen  in   its  bloom; 
The   first    fruits   of   the    soulless   Hun 

Has   spread   a  pall  of   somber  gloom! 

Alert   and   keen   he    left    his   books 

And   volunteered  his   brawn   and   brain, 

Filled  with  that   fine  zeal  that  looks 

Impatient    towards    the    battle    plain! 

To  those  who  sleep  in  Flanders  field 
He   was   in    soul   and   spirit,   kin. 

Although  denied  to  him  to  wield 

The  sword  or   hear  the  battle's  din! 

O   sleeper  in   the   khaki   shroud, 

Xot    in    vain    your   sleep   shall   be, 

This  dirge  shall  turn  to  trampings  loud, 
This  dead-march  to  a  Reveille  ! 

154 


IN  MEMORIAM 


NORMAN   I  \MI;.S  TWEEDIE 

Wheaton's  first  soldier  sacrifice,  a  volun- 
teer, Comparo  1.  45th  LJ.  S.  Infantry,  died 
in  Camp.  Buried  .it  Wheaton,  Illinois,  Feb- 
ruary 27,   1918,  with   military  honors. 


The  Service  Flag  Unfurled 

11  The  Stars  Fought  Against  Sisera  " 

A  City  unfurls  to  the  sky 

Before  a  loyal  people's  eye 
A   shining   constellation    of   resplendent   gems 

Beautiful  as  when  the  Night 

Spreads   in    splendor  all   the   bright 
And  transcendent  glories  of  her  diadems! 

Symbols  of  her  sons  are  they 
Who  have  swept  to  the  fierce  fray 

Keen  as  the  true  temper  of  their  trenchant  swords 
Where  upon  the  field  of   Mars 
They   shall   fight    as   fought   the   stars 

Against  the  cruel  captain  of  the  Canaanitish  hordes! 

Soldiers  of  the  field  and  fleet, 

Know  that  all  the  home-hearts  beat 
Loyal  and  devoted  as  your  foe-feared  steel. 

And  in  witness  of  her  love 

Constant   as   the   stars  above 
In  this  service  flag  your  city  sets  her  seal ! 

March   14,   1918. 


England 

"  This  precious  stone  set   in  the   silver  sea  " — Shakespeare 

Tune  :  America 

Brave   Britain,  strong  and   grand, 
O    lion-hearted    land, 

In  this  fierce  strife 
Against    the    heartless    Huns, 
Rests  on  thy  valiant  sons 
And   thy   death-dealing   guns 

The   whole  world's  life ! 

155 


O  treasure  isle  of  earth, 
Land  of  fair  Freedom's  birth 

That  we  adore, 
Britannia,  the   free, 
Columbia  and  thee 
Shall  kin  and  comrade  be 

On  fields  of  war! 

And  proudly  side  by  side 
Our    fighting    fleets    shall    ride 

On    ev'ry   sea; 
With  beak  and  talons  bare 
Shall  our  swift  eagles  tear 
The  vultures  from  the  air 

And  make  it   free! 

O   England,   how   we   bless 
Thee   in   the   battle  stress 

Of   these   dark   days, 
England,   that   holds   the   line 
And  pours   out   life's   red  wine 
Freely  on  Freedom's  shrine — 

England   we   praise! 

March  28,  1918.     (During  the  Picardy  drive.) 

To  J.  Ellis  Machamer 

On  entering  U.  S.  Aviation   Service 

We  give  our  heart's  full  measure 
Of  love  and  lusty  cheers 
To  you  who  give — 
That  we   may  live — 
Your  manhood's  choicest  years! 

Fair  Freedom's  fearless  eagles 
Shall  brothers  be  to  you 
As   you   shall   soar 
Where  clouds  of  war 
Darken  the  azure  blue! 

156 


The  shadows  of  your  pinions 

The  Hun-king's  land  shall  see 
Mark   out   a    path 
Of  woe  and  wrath 
Dark  and  forebodingly! 

Erect,  alert  and  loyal, 

Keen  and  clean  and  brave, 
Our  blessings  rest 
Upon  your  crest 
In  war  on  land  and  wave ! 
April  11,  1918. 


15? 


Private  La  Verne  T.   Perrottet 

First  to  the  call 

And  first  to  fall 
Where   Freedom's    vanguards   stand, 

His  life's  red  wine 

A-   on   a    shrine 
He  poured  in  "  Xo   Man's  Land!" 

A    star    as    keen 
-   those  whose  sheen 
Gleams   in   Old   Glory's   fold, 

His   battle   won 

The    setting   Sun 
Has  turned  to  fadeless  gold! 

White    immortelle- 
Shall    grow    where    shells 

Now    tear   the   trembling  ground, 
And   lilies   fair 
Of    France    bloom    there 

Above   his   cross-marked   mound! 

Heroic    dead, 

Above  our  head 
The  flag  at  half-ma>t   t! 

In    sad   and   mute 

Vet   proud  salute 
To   your   great    sacrifice! 


158 


IN  MEMORIAM 


LA   VERNE  T.  PERROTTET 

76th  Company,  6th  Regiment  United  States 
Marines.  Born  December  3,  1896.  Killed  in 
action    June    15,    1918. 


IN   MEMORIAM 


WILLIS    HUGH    CORK 

Private.  Motor  Training  Detachment,  U.  S. 
Army.     Born  July  -  Died  in   Service 

October    1,   1918.     Buried   with   military   hon- 
ors at  Wheaton,  Illinois. 


Willis  Hugh  Cork 

We  loved  him  for  his  sunny  soul, 
His  clean  life  day  by  day, 

His  zeal   that   would   not   brook  control 
To  join    the    world-wide    fray! 

The   sunlight    hidden    in    his    heart 

Shone   in    his   genial   face, 
Revealing   with    unconscious   art 

His    wealth    of    inward   grace! 

We  saw  him  don  the  khaki  suit — 
That  soon  became  his  shroud — 

And   wear   it   brave   and   resolute 
With  happy  heart  and  proud! 

Death  has  paled   the   shining  star 
And   dimmed    the    eager   glance 

That   with   longing   saw   afar 

The  flaming  fields  of   France! 

Farewell,  hero-heart  that  beat 
Sweet  music  strong  and  brave. 

Thine  is  the   sacrifice  complete 

That   Freedom's   flag  may   wave! 


159 


The  Home-coming 

To   Herbert   E.   Holt 

The  Hun-scarred  hero  hobbles  home 

From  War's  red  carnage,  maimed  and  torn, 

Yet  with   each  scar 

A  service   star 
By  valor  won,  with  honor  worn! 

With  shattered  arm  and  severed  limb, 
On  staff  and  crutch  he  slowly  comes 
Received  with  tears 
And  lusty  cheers 
And  flying  flags  and  rolling  drums  1 

O  City  with  wide-open  arms 

And  eyes  amist  with  joy  and  pride 
To  greet  its  son 
Who   smote   the   Hun 
And  all  the  bolts  of  death  defied, 

The  priceless  gift  of  strength  and  youth 
And  manhood's  might  he  gladly  gave 

That  Freedom's  foe 

May  be  laid  low 
And  justice  reign  on  land  and  wave  1 

O  comrade  of  the  splendid  men 

Who  bear  our   far-flung  flag  along 
As  they  advance 
Through    shell-torn   France 
Two  million  freemen  strong 

We  crown  you  with  the  warrior's  bays 
For  duty  well  and  nobly  done 

With   that   deep   pride 

Intensified 
Of   parents   in   their   soldier    son ! 

October  18,  1918. 

160 


HERBERT   E.   HOLT 
Corporal,    Headquarters     Co.,    10th    U.    S. 
Field  Artillery,  A.  E.  F.     Lost  leg  at  Chateau 
Thierrv. 


IN  MEMORIAM 


ANDREW  F.  WAGNER 

Corporal,  Company  E,  130th  U.  S.  Infantry, 
A.  E.  F.     Died  in  Service  in   France. 


The  Star  of  Burnished  Gold 

(In  the  M.  E.  Church  Service  Flag) 
Corporal   Andrew    F.   Wagner 

A   sentry   of   the   outer   guard 

Of  Freedom's  fearless  host, 
Struck  by  the  foeman's  iron  shard 

Has   fallen   at   his   post ! 

In  grateful  love  the  land  that  he 

Laid   down   his  life  to  save 
With   poppies  and  the  fleur-de-lis 

Bedecks   his    hero   grave ! 

And  'mid  the  hundred  sons  of  Mars 

In   this  bright   flag   unrolled 
We   set  among  the   living  stars 

His  star  of  burnished  gold! 

O  never  shall  its  luster  wane 

Or   its    rich    glories    die 
While  o'er  Columbia's  domain 

The  Flag  of  Stars  shall  fly! 

(Read  at  Service  Flag  dedication  exercises  of  Gary  Me- 
morial  M.   E.   Church,  Wheaton,   Illinois.) 


161 


Peace 

There  is  peace  with  a  beaten  brute, 

A  murderer  band  at  bay, 
A  pirate  caught  with  blood-stained  loot, 

A  steel-snared  beast  of  prey! 

The  treacherous  Turk  and  lying  Hun 
With  fear-filled  hearts  have  made 

Peace — at  the  point  of  the  smoking  gun 
And   short-fused   hand   grenade! 

They  starved   and   butchered  babes  in  glee 
And  slew  their  wounded  foe, 

They  mocked  at  virtue's  frantic  plea 
And   laughed   at    helpless   woe! 

They  burned  and  flayed  and  crucified 
With   fiendish  art,  and  yet 

In  crimes  and  horrors  steeped  and  dyed 
They  ask  us  to  forget ! 

In   sight   of   Poland's   million   dead 

In    famine's    ruthless    reign 
Its   cringing  authors   beg  for  bread — 

And  shall  not  plead  in  vain! 

Right's  stern  sword  with  double  edge 
In  mercy's  hand  shall  keep 

The  treacherous  oath-breaker's  pledge 
Of  peace  on  land  and  deep  1 

With  those  who  did  the  dastard  deeds, 
Though   clashing  arms   may   cease, 

Our  faith  shall  lean  on  broken  reeds 
If  we  dare  hope  for  peace! 

November  15,  1918. 

162 


CHARLES  WAYLAND  BROOKS 


Lieutenant,    97th    Company,    6th    Regiment 
-     Marines.     Decorated  for  Distinguished 
Service.     Awarded   Crobc   de   Guerre. 


Welcome  to  Lieut.   Charles  Wayland  Brooks 

Great  Pershing  pinned  a  pendant  on  his  breast, 
A  Cross  of  War  for  deeds  of  valor  done 

And  his  Distinguished  Service  to  attest 

Who  crossed  the  sea  to  crush  the  haughty  Hun! 

The  plume  of  Percy  Hotspur  never  waved 
Above  a  heart  of  greater  dash  and  deed 

Than  when  in  bleeding  France  he  nobly  braved 
The  blasts  of  death  in  Freedom's  direst  need! 

Oh,  like  the  tides  upon  the  mighty  sea 
So  shall  his  noble  sire's  soul  upswell 

That  his  brave  boy  for  priceless  Liberty 

Has  fought  the  Hun  so  lion-like  and  well! 

O  comrade  of  the  millions  leal  and  true 

On  fields  of  fame  beyond  the  fields  of  foam 

Who  shared  the  glory  and  the  storm  with  you, 
O   seven-wounded   warrior,   welcome   home! 

November  13,  1918. 


163 


"  What  Should  Be  Done  With  the  Kaiser?" 

Seize  and  bind  the  Dragon, 
Drown   him  in   a   flagon 

Full  of  German  beer 
Then  with  all  his  legions 
Send  him  to  the  regions 

Where  the  demons  leer! 

BUT    if   he    MUST   linger 
Let  the  index  finger 

Of   eternal  scorn 
At  his  head   be  pointed 
The    most    Hell-anointed 

Mortal    ever    born  ! 

Let  not  St.  Helena 
Or  Queen  Wilhelmina 

Glorify  his  shame; 
Make  no  martyr-hero 
Of  this  fourfold   Nero 

And   his  evil  fame! 

Let   his  doom  be   written 
By  the  hand  of  Britain 

In  good  English  style, 
Leave  it  to  old  Blighty 
To   the    great   and   mighty 

Lion-hearted   Isle! 

Let  no  public  mention 
Or  the   world's   attention 

Feed  his   foolish  pride, 
Let  his  Sun   be   clouded 
And  in  shadows   shrouded 

Leave  the  Homicide! 

November  21,  1918. 

164 


The  Hero  of  the  Homestead 

The  soldiers  of  the  soil  have  won  the  war 
Conjointly  with  the  khaki  and  the  blue, 

The  plowshare  and  the   sickle  proudly  bore 
Their  burdens  of  the  battles,  leal  and  true! 

The   farmers   stood   behind   the   starry   flag 

On  far-flung  fields  beneath  the  burning  Sun 

And  with  a  zeal  that  did  not  faint  or  lag 

Their  arms  of  bronze  they   bared  against  the  Hun! 

The  sentry  larks  and   Morning's  herald  stars 
Beheld  them  up  and  harnessed  for  the  fray 

Ere  to  the  sleep-sealed  camps  of  Mars 

The    notes   of    Reveille    announced   the    Day! 

They  heeded  not  the   dewy  vesper  bell 

Or  twilight's  bugle  sounding  the   retreat 

But   weary  hours  valiantly  and   well 

They  toiled  amid  the  dust  and  harvest  heat! 

They  filled  the  lordly  ships  with  meat  and  bread 
That  gave  the  sinew  for  the  deadly  strife, 

And  where   the  vintage  of  the   war  ran   red 

They  poured  in  floods  the  goodly  oil  of  life! 

Oh,  salute  the  starry  flag  and  everyone 

Who  helped  to  hold  it  high  on  land  and  sea 

And  thrice  salute  the  nation's  noblest  son — 
The  hero  of  the  homestead  of  the  free! 

November,  1918. 


165 


Stuart  R.  Murray 

One  by  one  the  golden  stars 
Rise  above  the  ocean  bars 

On  the  far-off  shore; 
Bright  asterisks  to  symbolize 
That  below  a  hero  dies 

Upon   the   fields  of   war! 

One  that  shone  through  the  long  night 
At  the  Morning's  rosy  light 

Changed  to  chastened  gold, 
Just  as  day  he  could  not  see 
Brought    sweet    Peace    and   Victory 

To  the   starry   fold  I 

The  rich  stream  of  life  that  ran 
Bright   and    red    before    Sedan 

Has    enriched    the    world. 
Adding  luster  to  our  name 
And  the  lovely  flag  of  fame 

Over  us   unfurled  ! 

Star  of  gold  among  the  blue. 
Pride  and  tears  and  joy  and  rue 

Mingle  in   the  heart, 
Yet  a  sweetness  doth  abide 
That   shall  grow  more  glorified 

As    the   years    depart! 

Liberty    that    loves    the    brave 
Shall  stand  guard  above  the  grave 

Where    her   hero   rests 
In   French    lily-fields    that   hold 
Freedom's  countless  stars  of  gold 

In  their  grateful  breasts! 


166 


IN  MEMORIAM 


STUART   R.    MURRAY 

Private.  140th   l\  S.   Field   Artillery.     Killed 
at   Sedan.   November   10.   1918. 


THE   RESERVE   MILITIA 

Commissioned  Officers,  during  the  War,  of 
Company  B,  5th  Regiment,  Illinois  Reserve 
Militia. 


Captain 

1st   Lieut.          2nd    Lieut. 

G.  E.  Fernald 

C.  VV.  Hadley     J.  F.  Butler 

Chaplain 

Rev 

William  Beers 

The  Reserve  Militia 

To  you  and  me 

The    Reveille 
Is  calling  strong  and  clear 

To  gird  for  war 

Though  Youth  is  o'er 
And  gray-streaked   locks  appear! 

A  million   strong 

Sweep  on  with  song 
And  buoyant  stride,  and  we 

Must  do  our  part 

With  hand  and  heart 
E'en  as  our  strength  shall  be! 

To    guard    our    home 

They  crossed  the  foam; 
And  we  within  the  gate 

Must  here  lay  low 

The   lurking   foe 
That   menaces   the    State ! 

Fall  into  line, 

Let  none  decline 
When  others  offer  all; 

With   proud   disdain 

Of  ease  and  gain 
Come    to    the    color's    call! 


August  25,  1918. 


167 


Russell   R.    Brooks 

Beautiful   in   death   and  life, 

Star  of  blue  and  star  of  gold, 

Volunteer    for    the    great    strife 

That  his  eyes  could  not  behold! 

Hero   heart   elate  and   strong, 

Soldier  soul  that  sought  the  fray, 

Honors   unto   you   belong 

Worthy   as   the   victor's   hay! 

■    breast    with    no   ("re--  of  War 
Pinned  above  the  silent  heart, 

Soul  denied  the  battle's  roar 

And   a    valiant   brother's   part  ! 

Comrade  of  the  spirits  who 

Swept   in   splendor  o'er   the   deep 

And   like    soldiers   brave   and   true 
In    their    martial    mantles    sleep 

Under    England's   noble    rose, 

Under  the  sweet  fleur-d< 
Under  Ear  Archangel  snow-, 

And    the    sun    of    Italy! 

All  who  died  of  SlOW 

All    who    perished    by    the    sword, 
All    who    slumber    in    the 

Have,   in   common,  one   reward; 

Wisdom    with    unerring   ken. 

Justice   with   impartial   eye, 
Equal   glories   mete   to   men 

Who  have   nobly   dared   to  die! 

Stars  in    Nature's   night   may   wane, 
Suns   be  cloud-o'ercast,  and  yet 

Your    rich    splendors    shall    remain — 
Star  of  gold  that  shall  not  set ! 

168 


IN  MEMORIAM 


RUSSELL   R.   BROOKS 

U.    S.    Marine    Aviation    Corps.      Died    in 
England.   September   30,   1913. 


IN  MEMORIAM 


GEORGE   P.   KULL 

First     Lieutenant,    Air    Service,     A. 
Killed   in   Aerial  Action. 


The  Story  of  the  Service  Flag 

Brave  city  with  four  hundred  stars 
Symbolic  of  four  hundred  sons 

Who  donned  the  panoply  of   Mars 

To   break   the   onslaught   of   the   Huns, 

Set  in  a  flag  that  gives  to  Day 

A   semblance   of    the    starry    Xight 

When    Heaven's   hosts    in   proud   array 
Sweep   in   review   before   our  sight ! 

Oh,  study  well  that   starry   scroll, 

For  on   its   page  you   may   behold 

The  reflex  of  a  City's  soul 

In  star  of  blue  and  star  of  gold! 

It   tells   a   story  that    we   prize. 

It    breathes   a    song   in    many    keys 

When   we  unfurl   it   to   the   skies 

Or  see  it  flaunting  in  the  breeze  ! 

And    as    its    folds    rise    and    subside 

Responsive  bosoms  sink  and  swell 

With   deep   emotion's   subtle   tide 

For  those  who  live  and  those  who  fell 

To  some  it  speaks  of  the  Red  Sea 
Of  battle  with  its  crimson   wave, 

To  others   of   the   fleur-de-lis 

Abloom  above  a  hero's  grave! 

And  a  great  triumph  thrills  us  all 

Amid  the   sunshine   and   the   clouds, 

Despite  the  mists  of  tears  that  fall 

For  those  who  sleep  in  khaki  shrouds! 

We   hear   the   tragedies   retold; 

We  see   brave  young  Perrottet   die, 
And  Wagner's  blue   star  turn   to  gold, 

And  Kull  fall  flaming  from  the  sky! 

169 


And   Murray's  crimson   life-blood   flow 
On  the  red   ramparts  of  Sedan, 

And   Carlson's   noble   form   laid   low 
Far   in  the  raging  battle's  van! 

And  Yoss  lay  on  fair  Freedom's  shrine 
The    soldier's    supreme    sacrifice, 

And  Carroll  pour  his  life's  bright  wine, 
And   Cahill  fall  no   more   to   rise! 

We  see  the  stars  of  silver  sheen 

Who  felt  the  foeman's  wrath,  yet  live 

Who  sought  the  conflict  strong  and  keen 
And  offered  all  they  had  to  give! 

We  here  see  Wagemann  and  Holt 

Amid   the   smoke  and   cannon's   roar 

Dismembered   by  the   thunder-bolt 

That    falls    upon   the  field   of    war! 

And   in   the   awful   Argon ne   wood 

Sittler   and   Johnson    pierced   and    torn, 

Where   at    bay  the    Hun    hosts   stood 
Of   all  their   boasted  glory   shorn! 

I  e   the   poison    billow   roll 
And    Porter   feel  its   fiendish    wrath, 
The  shard  that  shattered  Besch  and  Cole 
And  left   such  tragic  aftermath! 

And  Brooks  of  Chateau  Thierry  fame 
With  seven  frightful  wounds  we  see 

On  Soisson's  field  amid  the  flame 
Of   the   red-tongued   artillery! 

Yet   not  so  sad  the  fate  of   those 

Who  fought  and  fell  face  to  the  foe 

As   the  gold  stars  that  brightly  rose 

And  set  ere  they  could  strike  a  blcwl 

170 


Young  Tweedie  laying  down  his  books, 
Goodwin  and  Morton,  business  care, 

Their   College   courses,    Cork   and    Brooks, 
All   chafing  to  be   "over   there!" 

Unmentioned   stars   serene   and  bright 

Were  brave  and  true  as  those  we  name 

And  fought  as  well,  or  sought  the  fight, 
And  share  alike  in   our  acclaim! 

They  braved   the   submarine   and   mine, 
They  circled   with   the   Escadrilles, 

They  swept   the   far-flung  battle  line 
From  Flanders  to   the   Alsace   hills! 

They  charged  the  forests  of  Champagne, 

They   held   the    Marne   against  their   foes, 

The  Somme,  the  Meuse,  the  Oise  and  Aisne 
Beheld  them   strike   heroic  blows! 

Down  Wheaton's   future,  year  by  year, 
The  chorus  of  these  stars  shall  roll, 

Four  hundred  voices  strong  and  clear 
To  thrill  and  lift  its  civic  soul 

To  stir  it  to  the  noble  fight 

Against  the   foes   that   lurk  unseen — 

The  social   mildews  and  the  blight — 
And  keep  the  City  sweet  and  clean! 

O   Service   Flag  that   we  adore, 

As  your  stars  stood  in  the  Great  Strife 

We   shall   in    peace — as   they   in    war — 
Stand   sentries  o'er   our   City's   life! 

Read  at  the  Annual  Banquet  of  the  Wheaton  Business 
Men's  Association  at  Masonic  Temple,  Wheaton,  Illinois. 
February  20,  1919. 

171 


Woodrow    Wilson 

The  towering  Titan  ol  our  time. 

So  great   we  cannot  gauge   his   height, 

Standing    serene 

Clear-eyed    and    keen  ; 
The  Morning  Star  of  War's  long  Xight ! 

He  knows  the  force  of  high  id< 

Firm   i>   his   faith    in    lofty   dream-. 

The  counterpart 

Of    head   and    heart 
Is  warp  and  woof  of  his   wise   schemes! 

Skilled  sculptor  of  the  polished   phrai 

With    classic    chisel    deft    and    true 

He    forms    the    fate 

Of    the    World-State 
As    only    Master   Art    may   dol 

Rich    in   the   lore  of    Learning's    Halls, 

A   scholar   who   the   world   of    men 

And   deeps  and  shoals 

:iu man    souls 
Sweeps    in    his    all-embracing    ken! 

O  mighty  statesman  of  the  world, 

In   solemn    league   link    foe    and    friend 

That   wars   may  cease 

And    smiling    Peace 
Reign  o'er  the  earth  till  Time  shall  end! 


March  18,  1919. 


172 


IN    MEMORIAM 

"  The  Chief  joins  his  Legions  " 

Woodrow   Wilson 

(February  6,   1924) 

Jonquils    and    mignonettes 
Voicing  a  world's  regrets 

Bow   low  and  mute, 
And   in   a   sky   o'ercast 
The   ensigns    droop   half-mast 

In  grief's  salute. 

He  passeth  to  his  rest 
Bearing  upon    his   brea>t 

A    soldier's    scar; 
High-purposed    soul    in    war, 
And  when  the  strife  was  o'er 

Hope's  brightest   star  ! 

As  the  great   bow   that   bends 
Alike    o'er    foes    and    friends 

Wlu-n  tempests  cease 
He  stood  with  outstretched  hands 
And  offered   to   all  lands 

The    plan   of   peace ! 

But  blind   with   blood  and  wrath — 
War's    tragic    aftermath — 

Dim-visioned  men 
Turned  from  the  proffered  light 
Back  to  the  hopeless  Xight 

Of    Force    again ! 

Yet    still   above    his   shrine 
The  star  of  hope  shall  shine 

And  point  the  way, 
And  to  that  noble  urn 
The   world   shall  yet   return 

And    homage    pay ! 

173 


4  The  Wheaton  " 

To    crush    the    Huns 

Ten    thousand   tons 
Of  Yankee  tempered  steel 

Ha>    sought   the   sea 

In    mail 
On    Strong   and    buoyant    keel! 

A    priestess    fair 

beauty    rare 

tized  her  beaming  brow 

Al    in    the    deep 

With  mighty  leap 
plunged  her  gallant  prt 

From    shore    t(»   ih< 
Through    itormi    of    war 

may  ihc  hear  a itb  i] 

The    deadly    shell 
That    herald>    hell 
T< .    all    the    < lerman    hreed  ! 

When    \ 

blood    and    !• 

And    \\  • 

Then  may  she   ride 

The    sunlit    tide 
A    thousand    year-    of    peace  ! 

Launched  at  Baltimore,  September  21,  1918.    Christened 

by    Miss   Grace  Chester,  of   Wheaton,  Illinois. 


174 


FR  \\k    M.  SITTLER 


"Many-wounded  Sittler."        Corporal, 
Infantry,  4th   Division    U.   S.   Army,  A.   E.    F. 
Both  legs  riddled  in  Argonne  '  i  Oct. 

10,   1 


St.  Michael's  Service  Stars 

Salute    St.   Michael's   soldier   sons 
Who   dared   the   world-defying   Huns 
Their  poison  fumes  and  flaming  guns 

And  forced  the   foe   to  flee, 
Who  swept   with   that   heroic   band 
Through  lurking  death   to  foreign   strand 
And  poured  their  blood  in  "  Xo  Man's  Land  " 

To  keep  the  nations  free! 

The  Starry  Flag  that  loves  the  brave 
And  brave  men  love  and  die  to  save, 
Hope  of  the  world  on  land  and  wave 

Is  proud  of  these  brave  nun 
Whose  stars  this  Service  Flag  holds  high 
To  thrill  the   heart   and   charm   the   eye 
E'en  as  the  glories  of  the  sky 

Delight  our  mortal  ken  ! 

These  silver  stars  won  deathless  fame 
When  Argonnc  Forest  burst  in  flame 
And   the   great   battle-field    became 

A    shambles    red    and    grim; 
And  when  on   Verdun's   flaming  fore 
'Mid   hissing   shell   and   cannon's    roar 
The   Hun-envenomed   missile   tore 

Away  the  stalwart  limb; 

Where  Gasner  fell  in  the  fierce  fray 
And   many-wounded   Sittler   lay 
Upon   that  narrow,  shadowy  way 

Dividing  life  and   death  ; 
Where  Walsh  and  Wagemann,  deep-torn, 
Swept  to  the  crimson  battle  bourne 
With   hero  hearts   that   held   in   scorn 

The  cannon's  scorching  breath  1 

175 


We  give  to  thee,  0  valiant  band, 
O   fighting   sons   of    Yankee-land, 
The   proud   salute  of   heart  and  hand 

For  duty  bravely  done  ; 
Bright  stars  who  braced  and  held  the  line 
And    rolled    the    foemen    to    the    Rhine. 
May    Fortune   kindly  and   benign 

Smile  on   you,   everyone  I 


Vincent  I.  March 

A  bright  and  lovely  star  has  fallen  from  the  sky 
And  i  stately  Rower  is  cut  down  in  full  bloom: 

The    sadness    inconsolable    when    Youth    and    Beauty    die 
Has    settled   down   upon   US    with   its   ten-fold   gloom! 

The  rosy  tints  of  Sunrise  tinged  his  cheek  and  brow 

The   Sttnny   SOUl    within   him   lighted   Up   his   face. 

A  freshness  like  the  orchard's  blossom-laden  bough 

Lent  to  his  inner  beauty  a   wealth  of  outward  grace! 


Before    the    echo    ceased    Of    War*S    first    bugle    blast 

He   .stood   beneath   the  colors   in    khaki  glory   clad, 
A    volunteer  for  duty   till  the   red   storm   was    past. 
A   nation's   brave  and   loyal,   noble  soldier   lad! 

Fair  argosy  outbound  across  the   mystic  ocean  bars 

To  isles  and  ports  not   marked  Ofl  any  mortal  charts, 

You    bear    to    those    strange    realms    beyond    the    Evening 
Stars 
The  deep,  unmeasured  love  of  all  our  saddened  hearts! 

September   12,  1920. 


176 


IN  MEMORIAM 


VINCENT    I.    MARCH 

Company  H,  41st  United  States  Regulars, 
10th  Division.  Member  La  Verne  T.  Per- 
rottet    Post    No.   76,    American    Legion. 


IN   MEMORIAM 


HOWARD  GEORGE  LEONARD 

First  Lieutenant.  Company  A,  307th  In- 
fantry, A.  E.  F.  Died  of  wounds  received 
in  action,  Sept.  9,  1918. 


Howard  George  Leonard 

A  lad  we  knew  in   school  and  street 
As  a  boy  of  books  alert  and  true, 

A  youth   whose  bosom  throbbed  and  beat 
Responsive  when  War's  bugle  blew! 

He  won  and  wore  his  chevrons  well 
And   fighting  on  the  warrior's  plain, 

Torn   by   the   Hun-hurled,   bursting   shell, 
He  gave  his  life  that  right  might  reign! 

The   bright   emblazonry    of   fame 

Where  high,  heroic  deeds  are  told 

And  honored  deaths,  shall  bear  his   name 
In   letters  of   enduring  gold! 

Upon  his  grave  the  fleur-de-lis 

And  weather-beaten   flags  may  fade, 

But   not,  while   men   love   Liberty, 
The    noble    sacrifice    he    made! 


177 


Welcome    to 

Rev.  Jonas  G.  Brooks 

On  Return  from  Overseas  Y.  M.  C.  A.  Service 

Fanfares  and  flags   and  drums 

To    him    who    smiling    comes 
As  genial  as  the  rising  Sun  out  of  the  Morning  sea 

After    the    stormy    Night 

When   Darkness  takes  its  flight 
And  Day  comes  forth  apparelled  in  his  robes  of  majesty! 

W'lun   the   great   challenge  came 

He  Answered  to  his  name 
And  with  his  eagle  brood  he  sought  the  frowning  cloud 

Where   kite   and   vulture   strove 

With  the  great  bird  of  Jove 
Amid   the   battle-thunder  and   the   tempest   trumpets   loud  1 

His   flaming  soul   put  zeal 

Anew  into  the  steel 
Whose  loyal  temper  thirsted  to  meet  the  hated  Huns; 

His  was  the  yeoman  part 

To  cheer   and  brace    the   heart 
And    lift   the    noble   spirit    of   a    nation's    soldier   sons! 

A   beautiful   gold   star 

Above  a  heart's  deep   scar 
Adorns  his  valiant  breast,  the  truest  Cross  of  War, 

A   loss   beyond  the   reach 

Of   pen   or   human   speech— 
A  soldier  lad  in  khaki  shroud  upon  a  foreign  shore! 

Thrice  welcome,  true  and  tried, 

The   City  gates   stand   wide 
And  all  our  hearts  and  homes  are  open  unto  you; 

Here  with  us  may  you  dwell 

Till  Life's  sweet  Vesper  bell 
Shall  call  you,  after  many  years,  to  bid  the  world  adieu! 

July,  1919. 

178 


REV.  JONAS  G.   BROOKS 
In  ( )verseas  Y.  M.  C.    V  Service 


Song 

The  Return  Triumphant 

Tune:  Battle  Hymn  of  the  Republic 

They   are   tramping   home   in   triumph    from    their    battles 

with  the  Huns 
'Mid    the    slowly    dying    echoes    of    the    thunder-throated 

guns 
And   Columbia   with   open   arms   receives   her   soldier  sons 
As  they  come   marching   home ! 

Chorus 

Hail,  Oh,  hail,  the  khaki  heroes, 
Hail,  Oh,  hail,  the  khaki  heroes, 
Hail,  Oh,  hail,  the  khaki  heroes, 

As  they  come  marching  home  ! 

Their  mighty   tread   has   shaken   down   the   towers   of  the 
strong, 

They  have  won  the  crimson   conflict  of  the  Right  against 
the  Wrong, 

They   have   wakened   all   the   nations    with    their   hope-re- 
surgent song, 
And  now   come   marching   home! 

Chorus : 

They  have  borne  the  Flag  Resplendent  where  the  bolts  of 
death   were   hurled, 

Holding  high  the   dearest  banner  that  has  ever   been   un- 
furled, 

They    have    made    it    loved    and    trusted    all    around    the 
mighty   world, 
And  now  come  marching  home! 

Chorus : 

179 


(Softly) 

They    have    left    among   the    lilies    fifty    thousand    stars   of 

gold 
Adding  glory  unto  beauty   with   a   richness   manifold — 
Heroes  of  the  nob'lest   story   pen  or  tongue  has  ever  told, 
Who   never   shall   come   home! 

Chorus 

Honor  guards  the   sleeping  heroes 
Peace  rots  with  the  sleeping  heroes 
Glory   crowns   the    sleeping   heroes 
Who    never   shall   come   home! 

August,   1919. 


"  Roads    of    Remembrance  " 
Memorial  Trees 

hundred  stately  elms  wt  let, 
That  coming  years  may  not  forget 

The    men   our    loyal    city    | 
To   battle    with    the    murderous    Hun 
When    Mars'  dark   frown   ecfipsed  the   Sun, 

ingnined    earth    and    stained    the    wave! 

Along  the  Highway  of  the  Free 

That    stretches   from   the   sea   to   sea 

These    noble    sentinels    shall    stand 
And    in   mute    majesty   declare 
To  all  who  sweep  that  thoroughfare 
The  deep  love  of  a  grateful  land! 

Oh,  may  a  thousand  years  of  peace 
Behold   them   prosper   and   increase 

To   heavenward   towering  trees, 
Firm-rooted,   strong,   and   great   of   girth, 
Deep   anchored  in  the  fertile  earth 

And  blessed  by  every  passing  breeze! 

180 


IN   MEMORIAM 
BERTRAM   J.   CARROLL 

-    Arim .  A.  I-'..   !•'.     Killed  in   Action 


in  mi;moriam 

loilX   CAHILL 


Private,  Battery  D,  305th  LJ.  S.  Field  Artillery,  A.  E.  I". 
Wounded  in  Action  August  23,  1918,  and  died  tin-  next  day 
at   American    Red   Cross    Hospital   No.   11". 


IN   MEMORIAM 


FREDERICK    C    \ OSS 

Field   Artillery.  A. 


Private,    149th    I'.    S 
F.     Killed    in   Action. 


IN  MEMORIAM 


CHARLES    ALFRED    GOODWIN" 

Private,  Fifth  Rec.  Co.,  2nd  Battalion, 
Fort  Mcintosh,  Laredo,  Texas.  Died  in 
Camp.  Buried  at  Wheaton,  Illinois,  with 
military  honors. 


IN  MEMORIAM 


WINSTON  MORTON 

Private.     Died   at   Camp    Grant.   October   7, 
1918. 


IN  MEMORIAM 


CARL    H.    CARLSON 

Company   H,  23rd   I".   S.   Infantry,  A.  E.  F. 
Killed   in   Action. 


Oft  to  the  heart's  ear  they  shall  tell 
Great  deeds  of  those  who  fought  and  fell 

And  sleep  upon  the  fields  of  fame, 
And  acts  of  valor  from  the  day 
Our  mighty   armies  joined  the   fray, 

Christened  in  fierce  Cantigny's  flame ! 

And  as   the  crimson  current  ran 
From  bloody  Marne  to  red  Sedan 

The  legends  shall  be  oft  retold; 
The  charges  made,  the  shocks  withstood 
The  white   cross  in  the   Belleau  Wood 

Above  our   first   fair  Star  of  Gold! 

And  men  of   distant  years  to  come 
Who  never  heard  War's  cruel  drum 

Shall   stand   here   with   uncovered   head 
Or  sweeping  by  in  Life's  pursuit 
In    solemn   reverence   shall   salute 

The    Memory   of   our   soldier   dead! 

The  deeds  in  bronze  and   marble  told 
Are  crusted   o'er   with   moss   and   mould 

By  ruthless  Time's  relentless  hand, 
But  in  perennial  Spring  shall  these 
Life-throbbing,  virile,  stately  trees, 

Like   never-fading  laurels,   stand! 


181 


The  Voice  of  Locarno 

"Aye,   Wood  row   Wilson,   we   are   here, 

The  Nations  have  struck  hands  for  Peace, 

Thy   Concordat   breaketh   the   spear, 

Thy  Great  League  maketh  wars  to  cease! 

"  For  He  who  ordered,  '  Peace,  be  still ' 

To  tempest-torn    Gennesaret 
Upon  thy  Pact  of  World  Good-Will 

His  great  approving  seal  has  setl 

"  Beneath  His  hand,  awful  and  kind, 

And  chastened  by  His  rod  of  wrath, 

As  gold  by  fire  is  refined, 

The  world  shall  walk  a  warless  path  ! 

"And  men  shall  in  Concord  abide 

And  all  the  good  their  strength   unite, 

Nor  answer  wrong  by  fratricide 

Nor   test  the  truth  by  brutish  might! 

"  To  where  noble   St.  Albans  stands 

Shall  world-encircling   Peace   return 

And  lay  with  sweet  and  loving  hands 
A  white  wreath  on  thy  honored  urn  !  " 


182 


BOOK  HI 
Poems  of  Philosophy  and  Friends 


Wheaton  College 

A  lighthouse  flaming  on  the  coast 
Of  Time's  wild,  rock-embattled   deep, 

Sends  light  to  where  the   furthermost 
Lone   lookouts   their   long  vigils   keep! 

Fiercely  the  adverse  winds  of  time 
Have  beaten  on  that  tower  of  stone; 

But  still,  serene,  steadfast,  sublime, 
Its   faithful   beacon-blaze    has   shone. 

When  clouds  have  wrapped  earth  in  their  pall 
And  left  the  night  without  a  star, 

Doomed  vessels  in  the  tempest's   thrall 
Have  seen  its  warning  light   afar, 

And  when  the  ocean  plunged  and  rolled 
It  stretched  its  arms  of  light  to  save, 

As  good  St.  Christopher  of  old 

Bore  pilgrim  bands  across  the  wave ! 

The  ocean  thunders  at  its  base, 
And  mountain  billows  lash  its  form; 

Smote  by  the  lightning's  iron  mace 
And  loud  artillery  of  the  storm ; 

Yet  calm,  unmindful  of  the  shock, 
Strong  in  its  builders'  wise   designs, 

Firm-planted  on  th'  eternal  Rock, 
It  lifts   its  light-crowned  head — and   shines! 

The  years — those  tides  on  Time's  wide  waste 
That   ebb   and   ebb   but   never   flow — 

Have  never  seen  that  light  effaced 
Nor  tremor  in  its  steady  glow ! 

185 


Tranquil,   majestic   may   it   stand 

Where  Life's  mad  breakers  roar,  and  send 
Its  radiance  over  sea   and   land 

Till  all  the  storms  of  Time  shall  end! 

May  25,  1912 


Song 

The  College  of  Honor  and  Fame 

(Tunc:   "Columbia,  the  Gem  of  the  Ocean") 

0  Wheaton  the  theme  of  our  story, 
The   College  of  honor  and   fame, 

In  thy  past  and  thy  present  we  glory 
And  with  gratitude  mention  thy  name, 

And  our  hearts  are  filled  to  o'erflowing 
With  thanks  for  the  years  that  have  fled, 

For  the  blessings  thou  now  art  bestowing 
And  the  hope  of  the  long  years  ahead 
And  the  hope  of  the  long  years  ahead 
And  the  hope  of  the  long  years  ahead 

For  the  blessings  thou  now  art  bestowing 
And  the  hope  of  the  long  years  ahead  1 

May  the  coming  years  add  to  thy  powers 

And   shine   as   resplendently   bright 
As  blossom  the  glorious  flowers 

In  the  firmament  fields  of  the  night. 
And  we  send  up  our  song  salutation 

'Til  the  sky  that  is  bending  above 
Shall  re-echo  our  deep  admiration 

For  the  College  we  gratefully  lovel 

For  the  College  we  gratefully  love! 

For  the  College  we  gratefully  love! 
Shall  re-echo  our  deep  admiration 

For  the  College  we  gratefully  love! 

186 


Oh,  long  have  thy  faith  and  devotion 

Stood  the  stress  and  the  storms  of  the  past 
As  the  beacons  beside  the  wild  ocean 

Meet  the  buffets   of  billow  and  blast. 
On  thy  lofty  and  grove-mantled  station 

May  thou  stand  'til  the  end  of  the  world 
With  the  flag  of  a  purified  nation 

Above  thee  in  glory  unfurled 

Above  thee  in  glory  unfurled 

Above  thee  in  glory  unfurled 
With  the  flag  of  a  purified  nation 

Above  thee   in   glory   unfurled! 


January  1,  1914. 


The  Christian  College 

O   lofty   learning's   noble   home, 

The   shining  stars   above   thy   dome 
In  their  great  and  gleaming  glory  are  kindred  unto  thee, 

Sending  through  the  darkest  night 

Radiant  rays   of  purest   light 
As  thou  sendest  through  the  world  the  Truth  that  makes 
us  free ! 

Chaste  and  pure  and  serene, 

Clear  and  bright  in  silver  sheen 
Like  the  clustered  constellations  that  the  evening  brings, 

All  thy  goodly  deeds  are  set 

In  a  glorious  coronet 
Far  grander  than  the  diadems  of  ten  thousand  kings  1 

The  influence  of  the  Pleiades 
In  those  blue  and  star-lit  seas 
Spread    in    thought-surpassing    splendor    roundabout    the 
Universe 
Is   not   sweeter   than    the   ray 
Thou  dost  send   from   day  to   day 
To  the  sin-seared  souls  that  stumble  beneath  the  primal 
curse  1 

187 


Shining   like    the    kindly,   pure 

And   certain,   constant   Cynosure, 
Are  thy  ever  peaceful  precepts  pointing  to  the  perfect  day 

When  the  glories  of  the  Cross 

Shall  transmute  to  gold  the  dross 
\nd  all  the  flints  and  shards  that  strew  our  earthly  way! 


Wheaton  College  Alumni  Song 

(Tune:    ■  America  ") 

O  College   great  and   free, 
Our  songs  arise  to  thee 

From  grateful  hearts; 
Home  of  our  morning  days 
Bright  as  the  golden   rays 
That   greet   our   earthly   gaze 

When  night  departs! 

Most  noble   in   design, 
An   altar   and   a   shrine 

Thy   tower   stands. 
Chief   of   our   hearts'   concern 
To  thee  our  thoughts   return 
As  pilgrim  bosoms  yearn 

From  alien   strands! 

Far  in   the   days   of  old 
Choice  spirits,  wise  and  bold 

Laid  thy   strong  walls. 
Heroes  in   soul  and  thought 
Within  thy  temples  wrought 
And  there  the  truth  they  taught 

That   disenthralls  ! 

For  those  of  passing  days 
Our  voices  rise  in  praise 

And  songs  are  sung; 
As  noble   now  as   then, 

188 


Thy  sage  and  saintly  men 
Kingly  and  true   as  when 
Thy  days  were  young ! 

Be    thy    strong   spirit    near 

And  crowned  with  mem'ries  dear 

Hold  and  sustain ; 
Amid   Life's   toiling  marts 
As  year  by  year  departs 
Within   thy   children's    hearts 

Abide   and   reign ! 


Alumni   Thoughts 

(To   a  College  mate  of  former  year*) 

Oh,  oft  in  retrospection,  when 

We  live  o'er  the  past  again, 
Like  great   Buddha  meditating  beneath  the   spreading  bo, 

And  behold  the   kindly   ways 

We  were  guided  through  old  days 
Then  our  swelling  hearts  confess  the  mighty  debt  we  owe. 

And  in   full   accord   are   we 

That  the  brightest  spots  we  see, 
Like  the  hosts  of  burnished  stars  that  fill  the  sky  above, 

Are  the  student  days  we  spent 

Here   in  peace   and   sweet   content 
Beneath  the  noble  Norman  towers  of  the  College  that  we 
love. 

'Twas  here  in  our  plastic  youth 

Stithied   at   the   forge   of   truth 
That  we  were  shaped  and  tempered  for  the  wars  to  come, 

Trained  and  panoplied   for  strife 

In  the  nobler  wars  of  life, 
Not  the  wars  of  blood  and  carnage  and  the  battle  drum. 

189 


But  'twas  anent  the  coming  day 

Of  the  fiercer  moral  fray 
That   we  were   taught   the   tactics  by  the  bravest   of  the 
land, 

By   those   noble   men   and   bold, 

Titan  hearted,  Vulcan   souled, 
Who  led  and  marshaled  us  and  gave  us  the  command. 

Warriors   in   the   truceless   fight 

Until  the   triumph   of  the  right, 
In   their   fortitude   sublime   have  we  beheld   them  there, 

All  like  Caesar's  soldiers  leal, 

Linked    to    Cromwell's    burning    zeal, 
And  with  Lincoln's  patient  soul  and  Luther's  heart  to  dare. 

And  you  know  how  good  and  grand 

Was  the  great  leader  of  this  band, 
With   his  noble  crest  resplendent   as   the   helm  of   Mars 

And  with  a  crown  of  glory  bright 

As  is  the  diadem  of  night 
Inlaid  with  blazing  worlds  and  studded  with  the  stars  1 

As  august  and  truly  bold 

As   Moses  in  the   days  of  old 
(About  whose  body  Lucifer  and  the  archangel  strove), 

And  on  the  moral  battle  plain 

Like  imperial  Charlemagne, 
And  with  the  awe  and  majesty  of  cloud-compelling  Jove. 

It  was  thus  we  saw  his  prime, 

But  now  upon  that  head  sublime 
Have  the  hoary  frosts  and  snows  of  Winter  settled  there, 

And  on  his  Godlike  brow  appears 

The  pallor  marks  of  many  years 
And  we  note  "his  lyart  hafTets  wearing  thin  an'  bare." 

But  a  twofold   glory  now 

Seems  to  halo  him  somehow 
And  we  love  him  even  better  than  in  the  days  of  yore, 

When  dark  sin  and  error's  place 

Fell  before  his  mighty  mace 
Like  a  mountain  smitten  by  the  iron  sledge  of  Thor. 

190 


Oh,  yet  may  there  be  in  store 
For  our  great  teachers  we  adore 

A  rich  and  sweeter  aftermath  than  first-fruits  of  the  mead; 
From  Wisdom's  lips  a  word  of  praise, 
From  her   right   hand  length   of  days 

And  a  wealth  of  Winter  glories  that  nothing  can  exceed. 

Like  stalwart  sentinels  they  stood 

At   duty's   post   for   our   good 
Through  all  the  weak  and  sleeping  hours  of  the  long  ago, 

And  still  may  they  ever  stand 

Like  the   pine  trees   green   and  grand 
In  Winter's  leafless  forests  capped  with  crowns  of  snow. 

Faithful   Mentors   were   they   all, 

As    wise    Gamaliel    unto    Paul, 
And  our  blessings  rest  upon  them  like  a  diadem; 

Of  such    splendid   men   as   these 

We  are  the   heirs  and  legatees 
And  our  highest   filial  duty   is  to  truly  honor  them. 

They  gave  to   us   a  lofty   code, 

They  pointed  out  the  royal  road, 
They  gave  the  card  and  compass  for  all  the  days  to  be; 

Each  rock  and  reef  and   shoal 

Between  us  and  our  goal 
They  noted  on  the  pilot-chart  of  Life's  tempestuous  sea. 

The  coast  of  luring  siren's  song, 
Every   cove   and   reach   of   wrong 

That  threatened  to  engulf  or  strand  our  little  barque 
They  marked  down  in  ways  that  were 
So   clear   that   none   could   ever   err 

Although  the  trackless  sea  was  tempest-torn  and   dark. 

As  guides  beyond  the  outer  bars 
They  gave  us  fixed  and  gleaming  stars 
And  against  the  wind  and  current  and  list  and  undertow 
They  taught  us  how  to  tack  and  veer, 
To  keep  our  courses  true  and  clear 
With   sleepless   lookouts   at   the   prow   and   all   the   lights 
aglow. 

191 


Then   how   can   those   instructed  here 
Make  shipwreck  of  their  life  career 

And  drift  like  aimless  derelicts  the  prey  of  tide  and  breeze, 
Upon   the   seething  billows   tossed 
With   rudder  gone  and  anchor   lost, 

The    menace,   dread   and   terror   of   the   travellers   of   the 
seas? 

How  can  they  who  here  were   fed 

And    tasted    the    ambrosial    bread 
Turn  again  with  longing  to  the   flesh-pots  and  the  leeks 

And  the  drink  of  death  endure 

Who  here  drank  the  draughts  as  pure 
As  come  from  melting  snows  upon  the  mountain  peaks? 

Why  will  men  prefer  to  dine 
Upon  the  husks  devoured  by  swine 

When  meat  and  milk  and  honey  are  bountifully  supplied; 
Why  will  they  pant  and  thirst  and  die 
With    brimming    rivers    running    by 

As    fresh    and    welcome    as    the    flood    that    flowed    from 
Horeb's  side  ! 

November  25,  1909. 

Song 

The  School  We  Love  Dearest 

(Tune:    "Columbia,  the  Gem  of  the  Ocean") 

O  Wheaton,  the   school  we  love  dearest, 
O  pride  of  the  schools  in  the  West, 
To  our  hearts  thou  art  ever  the  nearest 
And  thy  precepts   are  purest  and  best. 
Oh,  long  may  that  grand  Norman  tower 
Which   gladly  and   proudly   we   view, 
Stand   guard  over   us   every   hour 
Like  a  sentinel  trusty  and  true 
Like  a  sentinel  trusty  and  true 
Like  a  sentinel  trusty  and  true 
Stand   guard  over   us   every   hour 
Like  a  sentinel  trusty  and  true ! 

192 


Though  tossed  in  the  world's  wild  commotion 
Like  ships  in  the  midst  of  the  sea 
"  When  winds  are  at  war  with  the  ocean," 
Our  faith  and  our  hope  look  to  thee. 
And  now  while  we  sow  for  that  reaping 
Which  in  life's  harvest  field  is  our  part 
May  we  who  are  wards  in  thy  keeping 
Keep  close  to  thy  great,  glowing  heart 
Keep  close  to  thy  great,  glowing  heart 
Keep  close  to  thy  great,  glowing  heart 
May  we  who  are   wards   in   thy  keeping 
Keep  close  to  thy  great,  glowing  heart ! 

Let  our  lips  tell  the  triumphant  story 
And  in  tones  that  are  lusty  and  strong 
Let  thy  greatness  and  good  deeds  and  glory 
Be  borne  on  the  swift  wings  of  song. 
May  the  songs  that  we  sing  stir  and  sweeten 
And  keep  green  many  memories  dear 
And  link  us  more  closely  to  Wheaton 
The   school   that   we   love   and   revere 
The   school   that   we   love   and   revere 
The   school   that   we   love   and   revere 
And  link  us  more  closely  to  Wheaton 
The  school  that  we  love  and  revere! 


193 


Ode  to  Wheaton  College 

0  College  we  delight  to  name ; 

Brave  Titan  from  the  giants  sprung, 
At  fifty  years  thou  art  but  young, 

The  Future  is  thy  field  of  fame! 

Thou  art  emerging  from  the  Night, 
The  sable  curtains  are  withdrawn 
And  through  the  portals  of  the  Dawn 

The   world  is   flooded  with   the   light ! 

The   glorious    emblem   of   the    free 

Aglow  with  white  and  crimson  bars 
And  field  of  blue  abloom  with  stars 

Is  proudly  waving  over  thee ! 

The  children  of  thy  struggling  years, 

The  valiant  and  strong-hearted,  come 
Like  soldiers  at  the  rolling  drum 

And  add  their  leal  and  lusty  cheers! 

Thy  forward  looking  men  of  might, 
As  truth  to  prophets  is  revealed, 
Beheld   the   far-off  harvest   field 

Beyond  the  confines  of  the  night, 

And  here  an  altar  they  upreared, 
As  Bethel  in  the  border  land, 
By  each  succeeding  year  more  grand 

And  to  us  more  and  more  endeared! 

Oh,  there  are  tombs  along  the  way, 
Mute  sentinels  to  guard  the  Past, 
Bright   stars  that   cannot  be   o'ercast 

By  the  effulgence  of  the  Day! 

194 


The  potency  of  quiet  graves 

In  vain  the  powers  of  time  assail, 
The  unmarked  shrine   in   Moab's  vale 

Yet  rules  upon  the  land  and  waves ! 

Thine  own  heroic  dead  still  live ; 
A  force  forever  now  is  he  * 
Who  sleeps  beside  the  western  sea, 

Who  gave  us  all  he  had  to  give! 

Whose  gentle  soul  its  genial  light 
Shed  roundabout   his   daily  ways 
And  crowned  his  kindly  brow  with  bays 

Of  blessings  pure   and   starry  bright! 

When  sorrow's  shadows  crossed  his  heart 
And  dark  clouds  drove  athwart  the  sun, 
E'en   then  shone  brighter  one   by  one 

The  stars,  of  which  he  seemed  a  part! 

Great  hearted,  patient-souled  and  strong 
He  threw  the  iron  gates  ajar 
And  let  the   sunlight  stream  afar 

Across  the  darkened  plains  of  wrong! 

He   rests  beside   the   restless   sea; 

Yet   say  not  that   his  work   is   done ; 

The   goodly   things   by   him   begun 
Shall  live  through  all  the  years  to  be ! 

The  Past  is  safe.    Its  laurel  wreaths 
Of  fresh  and  never-fading  green 
Are  bound  by  unseen  bonds  between 

The  pulseless  and  the  world  that  breathes  1 

The  Present  sounds  its  trumpet  blast, 
To  us  the   silver  bugles   call, 
Their  notes  resounding  over  all, 

The  mighty  chorus  of  the  Past! 


Trof.   Elliot    Whipple;    buried   at    Chula   Vista,    California. 

195 


The   fight  is   ours.     But  this   fray- 
Is  not  a  brawl  of  battle  drums; 
Who  standeth  true,  whatever  comes, 

To  him  shall  be  the  victor's  bay ! 

The  palm   is   sure   though  seeming  late; 

No  good  thing  ever  shall  depart ; 

Then  thou,   with  reassured  heart, 
In  hope  abide,  with  patience  wait! 

The  seed  the  harvest  time  must  bring; 
Behold  the  weary  years  it  took 
To  smooth  the  pebble  in  the  brook 

To  fit  the  stripling  shepherd's   sling  I 

But  it  shook  Judah's  hills  with  cheers 
And   Israel's   foe   fled   in   dismay 
To  see,  on  its  appointed  day, 

The  triumph  of  those  silent  years! 

No  deed  is  done  but   it  shall  mould 

The   destiny   of   days   unborn ; 

Ours  is  the  labor  of  the  Morn, 
To  other  hands  the  harvest  gold! 

We  make  the  future.     In  our  hand 
It  lies  akin  to  lifeless  clay, 
And  as  we  build  and  plan   today 

So  shall  the   future's  temple   stand! 

The  discords  of  our  mortal  strife 
The  tuning  orchestra  may  be 
Before   it  finds  the  proper  key 

For  the   great   symphony  of   Life ! 

Now  in  the  Spring  of  thy  career 

When  all  thy  orchards  are  abloom, 
To  where   thy   lordly   towers   loom 

We  come  with  thanks,  to  praise  and  cheer! 

(Read   at  the  Alumni   banquet   in   Ladies'   Hall,   Wheaton 
College,   June   17,   1913.) 

196 


Song 

The  Graduates'  Farewell 

(Tune  :  "  Flow  Gently,  Sweet  Afton  ") 

Sing  softly,   dear   comrades,  your   love-laden   lays 

Of  Wheaton,  the  home  of  our  happiest  days; 
The  pathway  is   parting  we  journeyed  along, 

Sing  softly,  for  Wheaton,  your  gentlest  song. 
We  linger  and  look  o'er  the  swiftly-flown  years, 

The  tenderest  ties  are  unloosened  with  tears — 
We  pause  at  the  end  of  our  journey  awhile 

And  turn   back  the   shadows   on    memory's   dial. 

How  kindly,  dear  Wheaton,  and  graciously  sweet 

You  welcomed  us  here  to  this  charming  retreat, 
How  gently  you  guided  and  bounteously  blessed, 

And  pointed  us  ever  the  way  that  was  best. 
How  pleasant   the  clear,  rippling  river   has   run 

And  carried  us  safely  through  shadow  and  sun, 
But  now  we  have  reached  the  wide,  wild  ocean-side 

And  launch  forth  alone  on  the  fast-rising  tide. 

Our  guiding  star,  Wheaton,  you  ever  shall   be, 

Our  chart  and  our  compass  on  Life's  surging  sea. 
How  deeply  it  touches  the  chords  of  each  heart, 

To  sing  the   last  song  ere  forever  we  part. 
Sing  softly,  dear  comrades,  your  fondest  farewells. 

Your  songs  that  are  sweeter  than  clear  chiming  bells, 
This  primrose-bright  path  we  shall  travel  no  more, 

Sing  softly  for  Wheaton,  the  school  we  adore! 


197 


The  Old  Society  Hall 

The  choicest  spirits  I  have  met 
Within  the   vale   of   vain   regret 

And  barren  sigh, 
I   met   within   this   circle   here, 
This    inner   pale,   this    haloed    sphere, 

In   days   gone  by. 

The   zeal    the   kindred   soul   imparts 
When   heroes   greet   heroic   hearts 

With    royal    cheer, 
The   grandest   boys   I   ever   knew, 
The   stalwart,   honest,  leal  and  true 

Enkindled   here. 

Within  this  dear  old  hall  we  love, 
As  welcome  as  the  white  winged  dove 

Back   to  the   ark, 
From   isles   remote   and   cities   near 
The  voyagers  came  and  havencd  here 

Their  little   barque. 

Of   many  ways   and  walks   of   life 
They  mingled  here  in   friendly  strife 

In  storm  and  calm ; 
Rank  and  wealth  were  thrown  aside 
And  rich   and  poor  as  equals  vied. 

To   win    the   palm. 

From  north  and  south  and  east  and  west, 
Regardless  how  they  had  been  blest 

By  Fortune's  star, 
They  wrought,  as   far  as   in  them  lay, 
The  burnished  gold  and  common  clay, 

Upon  a  par. 

198 


Within  the  day  book  of  my  years 

With  entries  fraught  with  hopes  and  fears 

And  inky  blot, 
The  brightest  pages  therein  found 
Tell  of  the  actions  done  around 

This  sacred  spot. 

There  is  no  lovelier  spot  to  see, 
No  happier  retrospect  to  me, 

No  fairer  isle, 
As  I  look  down  the  rearward  track, 
Or   memory  turns   the   shadows   back 

Upon  the  dial. 

I  see  and  hear  and  feel  once  more 

The  sights  and  sounds  and  forms  of  yore; 

The    glowing   heart, 
The  ones  who  now  have  crossed  the  bar, 
The  youth  whose  "  soul  was  like  a  star 

And  dwelt  apart." 

Time,   perchance,  has  lent   its   haze 
To  form  the  giants  of  those  days 

Unto  our  eyes, 
As  forms  appearing  through  the  gloom 
Or  mist  or  fog  ofttimes  assume 

Heroic  size. 

Yet  reason  is  there  much  for  pride 
To   see    their   places    so    supplied 

Since  they  held  sway; 
For  here  are  boys  with  as  high  aim, 
As  ardent  hearts  and  tongues  of  flame, 

And  great  as  they. 

Out  in  the  world  or  in  this  hall 
We  are  one  kith  and  kindred  all 

And  one  in   plan : 
One  aim,  one  spirit  in  the  breast, 
One  high  resolve  above  the  rest, 

To  be  a  man. 

199 


Song 

The  Excelsiors'  Farewell 

(Tune:    "My    Old    Kentucky    Home,    Good    Night") 

The  lights  shine  bright   in   the   old  Excelsior  Hall 

'Tis  springtime  and  all  things  are  gay, 
The  stars  still  gleam  in  our  banner  on  the  wall 

But  we've  come  to  the   "  parting  of  the  way." 
The   boys   sing  songs   and   our  spirits   they   run   high, 

All    is    genial   and    happy    and    bright, 
But  the  time  has  come  when  we  all  must  say  good-bye, 

To  our  old  Excelsior  Hall — good  night  1 

Chorus 

Parting  now,  forever,  our  love  no  tongue  can  tell ! 

We  will  sing  this  song  in  the  old  Excelsior  Hall, 
Then  our  old  Excelsior  Hall — farewell! 

This  hall  no  more  with   Excelsior  songs  will  ring 

And  the  boys  they  will  come  here  no  more ; 
We've   sung  the   last   song  that   ever   we   will   sing 

Within  the  old  hall  we  adore. 
We'll  come  no  more  with  that  fire  in  the  heart 

That  filled  the  old  hall  with  delight, 
For  the  time  has  come  when  we  all  shall  have  to  part, 

Then  our  old  Excelsior  Hall — good  night ! 

Chorus 

For  long,  long  years  in  the  shadow  and  the  sun 

Has  this  dear  old  Hall  been  our  friend, 
But  the  links  must  break,  for  our  course  of  time  has  run, 

And   our   work   in   the   old   Hall   must   end. 
We  linger  long  for  we  do  not  like  to  go 

From  our  old  home  so  beautiful  and  bright, 
And  we  say  good-bye  while  each  heart  doth  overflow, 

To  our  old  Excelsior  Hall — good  night! 

Chorus 

200 


Farewell  to  the  Seniors 

(To  class  of  '98) 

Farewell  to  the  class  that  today  is  departing 

Forever  is  leaving  these  towers   and  halls 

Off  to  the  warfare  of  life  they  are   starting 

Where  duty  may  wait  or  where  destiny  calls. 

They  are  strong  with  the  strength  of  a  fearless  endeavor 

To  launch   'gainst  the   gales   and   blasts   of  the  world, 

May  the   pole-star   of   truth   guide   their   courses   forever, 

And   their   pennons   of   principle   never   be   furled. 

Farewell   to   thee,  friends !   who   forever   are   leaving 
We  give  you  the  hand  of  a  friend  as  you  go, 
The   Ocean   of   Time    is   incessantly   heaving 
And  its  tides  though  ever  they  ebb,  never  flow. 
Oh !  thanks  for  the  years  we  have  spent  here  together — 
The  years  that  passed  by  on   their   swift  golden  wings, 
Let   their   memories   cherished    make    sunshiny   weather 
Though   the   future   a   failure   or   victory   brings. 

Farewell!   for   the   Seniors   are   leaving  us   only 
As  we  have  commenced  to  admire  their  worth, 
Now  they  finish  their  course  and  leave  us  thus  lonely 
And  are   scattered   afar  'mong  the   nations   of  earth 
But  a  rainbow  the  cloud  of  the  future  is  arching, 
A  proof  that  somewhere  there  are  sunbeams  at  play, 
May  it  be  it  is  made  by  the  radiant  marching 
Of  Sunbeams  who  go  from  our   College  today. 

Farewell  to  thee,  Seniors  1   each   one   is  repeating, 
Farewell,   Beltionians   say   to   their   friends 
Heed  not  the   things  that  are  transient   and   fleeting 
But  strive  for  the  greater  and  far  better  ends. 
Farewell,    Philaletheans    fondly    are    waving 
To  the  first  one  of  all  of  the  lovers  of  truth, 
And  deep  in  their  hearts  her  name  is  engraving 
Who  loved  them  so  well  in  the  days  of  their  youth. 

201 


Farewell  to  thee,  Seniors!  the  banner  of  glory 

Is  waving  farewell  from  Excelsior  Hall 

Bright  names  on   the   scroll  of   her   glorious   story 

Who  will  go  where  Excelsior  spirit  may  call; 

Long,   long  may   that    spirit   still   hover   around   you 

And  its  battle-cry  ring  up  the  Alps  of  your  life, 

With  the  sword  of  that  spirit  as  ever  we  found  you 

Be   first   in   the    field    and   the    foremost    in    strife. 

Farewell  to  thee,  Seniors!  when  the  towers  of  Wheaton 

No  longer  your  eyes  again  can   behold 

May  your  love  for  our  College  still  keep  you  and  sweeten 

The   memories    green    of   the    school    days    of   old. 

With   whatever   allurements   the   future   surround   us 

Let   our   hearts   keep   awake   to   Society's   voice 

Let  the  links  never  break  in  the  chain  that  has  bound  us 

So  close  to  each  other  and  the  school  of  our  choice. 

June  24,  1898. 

Farewell 

(After  Napoleon's  Farewell) 

Farewell  to   the   fair,  the  wise  and   true-hearted 

Who  are  leaving  to  follow  where  Destiny  leads, 
True  monitors  all  in   days   now  departed 

And  counsellors  sage  by  their  words  and  their  deeds. 
No  tribute   of  tongues   can   we   give   as   a   token 

Expressing  the  loss  and  the  love  that  we  feel, 
But  the  bonds  of  endearment  that  cannot  be  spoken 

We  would  not  deny  and  we  cannot  conceal! 

Farewell  to  the  pilot  upon  the  deep  ocean 

Of  Science  whose  depths  never  plummet  can  sound, 
Keen  searcher  for   truth   with   untiring   devotion 

And  spirit  undaunted  and  learning  profound. 
And  farewell  to  him  whose  precise  calculations 

Made  the  labyrinth  light  and  its  winding  ways  straight 
And  the  hidden  things  clear  as  the  bright  scintillations 

Sent  down  by  the  stars  from  their  lofty  estate! 

202 


Oh,   farewell  we   say   unto   Music's   fair   flower 

Of  sweet  Saint  Cecilia's  pupils  most  true, 
With   hopes  and  regrets  in  this   sad,  parting  hour 

We   garland   her  temples   with   roses   and   rue. 
Farewell  to  the  singer  of  the  charm  and  the  sweetness 

Of  all  of  Calliope's  sisters  combined, 
In  her  station  and  song  and  soul  a  completeness 

Doth  mark  her  as  regal  among  womankind  1 

Farewell  to  thee,  friends  :  Like  the  mem'ries  of  Morning 

And  Springtime  and  blossoms  you  still  shall  abide, 
In  the  quiet  of  peace  or  the  bugle's  wild  warning, 

In  our  thoughts  a  perpetual  pleasure   and  pride. 
Farewell :  we  must   sever  the   bonds   of  our  union 

Wherein  we   have  walked  as   comrades  of  clay, 
But  thought  shall  keep  fresh  our  years  of  communion 

Like   the   sun-glinted   dews   at  the   break   of  the   day! 


Welcome  to  the  Class  of   1917 

The  Reveille  of  the  rising  day 
And  the  welcome  of  the  Sun 

Genial  and  true 

We   bring  to   you 
Whose  day  has  just  begun! 

Today  you  break  your  training  camps 
For   fields   of  the   far-flung  world 
To   fight  with   zeal 
For  the  wide  world's  weal 
Till  the  sunset  flags  are  furled ! 

We   open   wide   our  welcome  ranks 
And   greet   your   little   band 

As  waiting  France 

Welcomes   the   lance 
And  the  best  blood  of  our  land! 

203 


The  call  is  not  to  the  pleasing  pomp 
Of  a  peaceful  dress  parade 

For  the  trench-seamed   earth 
Shall  test  your  worth 
And  the  temper  of  your  blade  1 

Soldiers   trained   by   keen-eyed   men 
In  the  tactics  you  should  know 
To  use  the  sword 
In  thrust  and  ward 
With  the  masked  and  the  open  foe, 

A   valor   fit   for  the   firing  line 

You  shall  need   from  day  to  day 

And    hearts    as   brave 

To  face  the  knave 
As  you  need  for  the  deadlier  fray  ! 

The  College  towers  shall  fade  and  sink 
As  a  lighthouse  fades  away 

To  out-bound   sails 

Borne    by    the    gales 
To   the    ports    of   an    alien    bay ! 

Then   must   you  sail  by   the  charted  stars 
You  learned   in   the   code   book   here 
And   steer   your   barque 
Through   the  deep  and  dark 
By  those  lights  calm  and  clear! 

Welcome,  then,  as  these   Summer  days 
After  a  long,  late   Spring, 
To   grace   our   grand 
Alumni  band 
Like   gems   in   a   golden   ring! 

Read  at  the  College  Alumni  banquet  at  Ladies'  Hall, 
Wheaton   College,  June   12,   1917. 

204 


Song 

Wheaton  College 

Like  strong,  clear  notes 

From  trumpet  throats 
Upon  the  fields  of  fame, 

Let  us  peal  out 

In  song  and  shout 
Our  Alma   Mater's  name! 

Chorus 

Our  Alma  Mater's  name!     Our  Alma  Mater's  name! 
Let  us  peal  out 
In  song  and  shout 
Our  Alma  Mater's  name! 

In  all  our  years 

Of  hopes  and  fears 
And   Fate   and   Fortune's   lot, 

This  chaste  and  sweet 

And  calm  retreat 
Has  been  the  choicest  spot! 

Chorus 

Has  been  the  choicest  spot!     Has  been  the  choicest  spot! 
This  chaste  and  sweet 
And  calm  retreat 
Has  been  the  choicest  spot! 

It  glinted  true 

As   sun-kissed   dew 
In  manhood's  breaking  day; 

It  stands  unrolled 

Like   sunset   gold 
As   twilight   ebbs  away. 

205 


Chorus 

As  twilight  ebbs  away.     As  twilight  ebbs  away. 
It  stands  unrolled 
Like   sunset   gold 
As  twilight  ebbs  away! 

Like   yeomen   swords 

'Round    their    liege    lords 
And  vassals  'round  their  king, 

Thy   sons   shall   stand 

With    loyal   brand 
A   firm,  unyielding  ring! 

Chorus 

A  firm,   unyielding  ring!     A   firm   unyielding  ring! 
Thy   sons   shall   stand 
With    l<»yal   brand 
A   firm,   unyielding  ring) 

All-seeing   Sun, 
Till  day   is  dune 
Keep  guard  of   her   we   love, 
And   starry   fold 
Be    thou    unrolled 

Triumphantly  ah 

Chorus 

Triumphantly  above!     Triumphantly   above! 
And   starry   fold 
Be   thou    unrolled 
Triumphantly  above! 

Like  lights  that  shine 

Where  seething  brine 
Breaks  o'er  the  ocean  bars, 

O    kindly    Night, 

In  armor  bright 
Set   all  thy   sentry   stars! 

?06 


PRESIDENT    CHARLES    A.    BLANCHARD 

President  of  Wheaton  College.  Wheaton,  Illinois 


IN  MEMORIAM 

"  The   righteous  shall  be  in  everlasting 
remembrance  " 

In   the   Afterglow 

(Of   President   Blanchard's  Life) 

The   sweetness   of  the   afterglow 

At  set  of  this   great  Sun 
Is   more   than   mortal   senses    know 

When    garish    Day   is    done ! 

The  gold  turns  to  pale  amethyst, 
The   sapphire  fades  to   gray, 

The   skies   by   hidden   sunlight   kissed 
Their    tender   tints    display! 

The   dusk   and  gentle   twilight  meet, 

The    evening   tapers    die, 
And  soundless  music,  soft  and  sweet, 

Enrapture   soul  and  eye! 

A  stillness  exquisite  that  brings 

A   most   delicious   peace 
As   when  a  bell   no  longer  rings 

Or   chimes   of   Vesper   cease! 

In  such   sweet  silence  I  behold 

In   retrospect   again 
In  saintly  mien  and  kingly  mould 

One  of  God's  noblest  men. 

A   king  whose   earthly   coronet 
Held  only  one  bright  gem — 

The   Star   that   rose    (never   to    set) 
And  smiled  on   Bethlehem! 

He   wore  it   in  the   peaceful  light 

And  on  the  troubled  seas, 
It   led   him   through   the   weary   night 

And   dark   Gethsemanes ! 

Its   radiance  lighted  his   face, 

A  blessing  but  to  see, 
It  filled  him  with   an  inward   grace 

And  outward  majesty! 


He  held  it  high,  a  lofty  light, 

By    Ocean's    stormy    shore, 
And  wrecks  within  the  tempest's  might, 

Were   led  to   life   once   more ! 

In   every   crisis   he   was    leal 

To  the  commands  he  heard, 
The   Christian    spirit   was   his   steel, 

His    panoply,   the    Word! 

A  sentry  at  the  gates  of  Day, 
The    Morning   watch    of    life, 

His  white  plume  tossed  in   every  fray 
Of   every   noble   strife ! 

Against   the   legion   foes   of   Good 

His    voice    was    never   still 
And   firm   as   adamant   he   stood 

Opposed    to    every    ill! 

As    Drink,   the    fiend   of   inky   pall, 

In   endless   death    doth    lie, 
So   every    Sin   he   smote    shall    fall 

And    every    wrong   shall    die! 

He  was  a  builder  all  his  days. 

He   saw  great   towers  rise 
And   from  this   templed   hill  upraise 

Their   glory   to   the    skies! 

He  was  a  man  just  and  devout. 

And    like   the    Xazarene 
In  doing  good  he  went  about 

In    kind,    benignant    mien ! 

He   was   a   Teacher  of   the    Truth, 

A  man   divinely  wise 
To   shape  the  souls  of  plastic  Youth 

To  lives   of  high   emprise! 

Mighty    man   of   our   love. 

The   heart   speaks   no   farewell, 
In  beauty  like  the  stars  above 

There   he   shall  ever   dwell! 

It  is   not   dark,  though   Day   is   gone. 
The   good   man   does   not   die, 

His   light   shall  never  be   withdrawn 
From   Memory's  sweet  sky! 


December   25,    1925. 


Chorus 

Set  all  thy  sentry  stars!    Set  all  thy  sentry  stars  I 
O  kindly  Night! 
In  armor  bright 
Set  all  thy  sentry  stars ! 


Alumni  Salute  to  President  Blanchard 

Among  the  great  he  stands  apart, 
As  in  the  days  of  classic  Greece 

In   some  rich  gallery  of  art 
A  Phidian  chisel's  masterpiece! 

A  noble  soul  in   noble  form, 
A  beacon  blending  strength  and  light 

A  mighty  fortress  in  the  storm, 
A  waymark  in  the  starless  night! 

And  by  that  light  a  thousand  souls 
Were  led  like  ships  upon  the  sea 

And  passed  the  narrows  and  the  shoals 
To   ports   of   noble   destiny! 

Now  as  the  voyagers  return 
With  what  emotion  and  acclaim 

They  see  again  that  beacon  burn 
And  hail  once  more  that  kindly  flame! 

Heroic  figure  of  our  Past, 

Faithful  lighthouse   on  the  shore 

Of  Life's  great  ocean  deep  and  vast 
That  guided  us  in  days  of  yore  I 

Grown  more  noble  with  the  years 
And  haloed  with  a  purer  ray 

And  gentler  glory  he  appears 
Whom  we  salute  in  love  today! 


Read  at  Wheaton  College  Alumni  Reunion,  June  19,  1923. 

207 


Ode 

(On  breaking  ground  for  new  College   Chapel) 

Today  we  mark  a   plot  of  land 
Whereon  a  House  of  Faith  shall  stand, 

Whose  firm  foundation  is  the  Rock, 
To  which  if  it  be  anchored  fast 
It  shall  defy  the  hostile  blast 

Of  winds  that  rage  and  men  that  mock! 

The  Chapel  of  a  School  Sublime, 
High  honored   in  the  things  of  Time 

And   in   Eternal   matters,   right ; 
A  twofold  guide  along   Life's  way, 
A    Sun-crowned   mountain   in   the   Day, 

A  far-flamed  beacon  in  the  Night  1 

Above  this  cornerstone  shall  rise 
A  Temple  to  the  open  skies 

In   symmetry   ornate   and   strong, 
And  thru  whose  spacious  nave  shall  roll 
The  noble  anthems  of  the  soul 

And  sweet  and  spirit  stirring  songl 

Encinctured  by  majestic  trees 

That  shall   salute   with   every   breeze 

The   Flag  that   flies   upon   its   dome, 
That  holds  safe   and  inviolate 
And   yet   apart,   both   Church   and   State, 

The  hope  of  every  freeman's  home  1 

The  work  to  which  we  set  our  hand 
Shall  be  a  blessing  in  the  land, 

A  mighty   fountain   flowing  free; 
Refreshing  as  the  crystal  tide 
That  gushed  from  Horeb's  smitten  side 

Shall  its  abundant  waters  be! 

September  1,  1924 

208 


Local  Themes 
Wheaton — My  City 

Tune — America 

My  city  and  my  home, 
Fair  as  the  vaulted  dome 

Of  starry  night ; 
Set  in  the  richest  plains 
Columbia   contains 
Within   her  broad  domains 

Of  peace  and  light! 

I  love  thy  men  of  old, 
Souls  of  heroic  mold, 

Thy  pioneers 
Of  high  heart-beat  and  thought, 
Thy  men  who  toiled  and  taught, 
Who  wisely  planned  and  wrought 

In  thy  young  years  ! 

I  love  thy  pleasant  views, 
Thy  tree-lined  avenues, 

Tranquil   and   sweet; 
I  love  thy  welcome  shade 
Where  stately  elms  have  made 
A  leafy  colonnade 

Whose  branches  meet! 

O  little  kingdom  where 
A  princely  people  wear 

The  diadems  ; 
O  Christian  templed  town, 
Whose  schools  of  far  renown 
Adorn  thee  like  a  crown 

Of  precious  gems ! 

209 


Let  all  thy  children  come 
Like  soldiers  when  the  drum 

Beats  reveille, 
Full  panoplied  to  do 
Deeds  of  allegiance  true, 
And  loyal  soul  and  thew 

Pledge  unto  thee! 

Written  for  the  Wheaton,  Illinois,  Home-Coming,  July  4, 
1916. 


IN  MEMORIAM 
The  City's  Tribute 

To 
Jesse  C.  Wheaton 

A  city  bows  and  bares  its  head 

And  drapes  its  civic  home  in  woe 
In  mute  and  mournful  mien  to  show 

Its  deep  love  for  its  honored  dead. 

With  all  his  fellow  men's  "  well  done  " 
A  king  in  common  vesture  goes, 
A  toiler  to  his  last  repose, 

As  peaceful  as  the  setting  sun. 

No  royal  purple  mantled  him, 
Xo  jewelled  diadem  he  wore 
That  turned  to  dust  when  life  was  o'er 

And    faded   when   his   eye   grew   dim. 

With  virile  virtues  true  and  strong 
And  rugged  rectitude  of  soul 
His  record  is  an  open  scroll 

Without  the  blemish  of  a  wrong. 

Unconscious  of  his  kingly  state 

He  held  all  common  men  his  peer, 
Xo  tinsel  pomp,  no  false  veneer 

Was   his   or   would   he  tolerate. 

210 


COL.  WILLIAM   R.   PLUM 
Soldier,    Lawyer,    Author,    Nature    lover 


It  was  a  tribute  well  expressed 

When  from  the  hands  that  loved  him  well 
A  thousand  fragrant  flowers  fell 

Upon  his  peaceful  place  of  rest. 

With  death  no  good  life  is  complete; 

To  broken  walls  the  tendrils  cling; 

When  silver  bells  have  ceased  to  swing 
A  murmur  lingers  long  and  sweet. 

His  life  shines  with  no  lessened  light, 
For  when  the  sunset  ebbs  away 
The  hidden  stars  obscured  by  day 

Shine  more  resplendent  in  the  night. 


Col.  William  R.  Plum 

My  loved,  my  honored,  much  respected   friend." — Burns 

Here  is  a  true  "  plumed  knight,"  indeed, 
A  soldier  of  the  sword  and  pen, 

Framed  and  fit  to  grace  and  lead 
The  foremost  files  of  noble  men  ! 

A  classic  figure  in  the  Law, 

An  ornate  pillar  in  the  State, 
In  Court  and  Forum,  without  flaw, 

And  his  life,   immaculate ! 

A  gentleness  of  speech  and  mien 

With  Roman  dignity  he  bears; 
A  look  benignant  and  serene 

His  inward  majesty  declares! 

He  sweeps  within  his  kindly  ken. 
With  poet  mind  and  artist  eye, 

The  lowly  wild-flowers  of  the  glen 

And  beauties  of  the  earth  and  sky! 

211 


He  knows  the  wondrous  ways  of  birds, 
The  minstrels  of  the  wandering  wing, 

He  hears  their  music  without  words 

And  knows  the  messages  they  bring! 

Good  man,  who  holds  each  flower  a  friend, 
To  whom  all  the  sweet  birds  belong, 

Accept  this  petal  that  I  send, 

This  broken  fragment  of  a  song, 

As  tribute  of  my  high  regard 

And  great  esteem,  by  words  untold, 

My  offering  of  mint  and  nard 

And  myrrh  and  frankincense  and  gold! 


Dr.  Charles  E.  Allum 

A  surge  subsides  upon  the  sand, 

A  harpstring  snaps  beside  the  sea, 

A  baton  falls  from  the  strong  hand 
That  ruled  the  waves  of  melody! 

A  sail  that  swept  the  seas  of  song 

Is  reefed  and  furled  in  perfect  calm; 

A  rest  in  music  high  and  strong 
Like  Selah  in  a  sacred  Psalm! 

Where  voice  and  organ   rose  as  one 

And  mocked  the  thunder  of  the  skies 

A  zephyr  at  the  setting  Sun 
In  sad  diminuendo  dies! 

A  mighty  major  chord  is  mute, 

The  symphony  is  incomplete, 
The  trumpet  and  the  mellow  lute 

Have  hushed  their  music  strong  and  sweet! 


212 


IN  MEMORIAM 


CHARLES   EDWARD  ALLUM 

Mus.  Doc.  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  Ireland 

Director   of    Gary   Memorial   M.   E.    Church   Choir 

1910-1917 


IN  MEMORIAM 


JESSIE  HADLEY  FOX 


Mrs.  Jessie  Hadley  Fox 

Died  March  19,  1920 

Before  the  Autumn  frost  no  grander  flower  fell 

Than    this    whose    splendor    faded    at    the     dawn    of 
Spring; 

The  peaceful  chimes  of  earth  have  lost  no  sweeter  bell, 
And  the  great  Harp  of  Life  no  softer,  gentler  string! 

Her  face  was  but  a  true  reflection  of  her  soul, 
Open  and  benignant  and  cordial  and  sincere, 

And  hers  was  the  saintly,  unassuming  role 

Of  lowly  daily  deeds  of  help  and  hope  and  cheer! 

Oh,  like  the  Lenten  lilies  laid  high  upon  her  tomb 
By  the  deep  affection  of  a  mighty  throng, 

So  was  her  spirit  beautiful  as  that  wealth  of  bloom 
That  sent  its  incense  upward  like  a  sacred  song! 

Oh,  farewell,  noble  woman  of  kindly  heart  and  hand, 
Whose  mortal  glory  only  it  was  given  us  to  know; 

The  light  that  set  at  noon  shall  flood  the  darkening  land 
Through  Memory's  many  years  with  a  rich  afterglow! 


213 


"  Doc  M  Hopf 

The  great  man   of  whom   I  sing 

Needs  no  minstrel's  twanging  string 
Or  a  noisy  drum-corps  or  a  booming  gun 

To  proclaim  a  mighty  deed, 

Even  as  there  is  no  need 
Of  a  herald  to  announce  the  glory  of  the  Sun  ! 

I  impale  upon  my  pen 

And  hold  up  before  all  men 
The  wonder-man  of  Wheaton  and  the  wizard  of  DuPage, 

Our  Bill  Nye  and  Mark  Twain 

Known  from  Downers  Grove  to  Wayne 
And   honored  both   by   budding   youth   and   hoary   headed 
age! 

He  has  logic  true  and  sound 

And  philosophy  profound 
And  the  silver  eloquence  of  Burke  and  Peel  and  Pitt, 

And  the   overflowing  bowl 

Never  cheered  a  thirsty  soul 
Like  the  genial  Doctor's   sparkling  wine  of  wit ! 

We  can  learn,  dear  Doc,  from  you, 

Roses  are  more  sweet  than  rue 
And  kindly  words  are  just  the  honey  they  distill; 

To  carry  cheer  upon  our  lips, 

Not  in  flasks  upon  our  hips, 
To  sweeten  our  bitter  days  and  lighten  human  ill! 

Blessed  is  the  man  whose  mirth 

Adds  a  ray  of  joy  to  earth 
Like  a  sunbeam  streaming  through  the  rifted  cloud, 

And  tenfold  more  worth  is  he 

Who  dispenses  wholesome  glee 
Than  all  the  solemn  featured  and  the  sombre  browed! 

214 


DR.  WILLIAM  V.  HOPF 
Dental    Surgeon,    Coroner    and    Politician 


May  the  sunshine  and  the  dew 

Build  great  rainbows  over  you 
That  shall  shine  in  splendor  for  a  thousand  years 

As  you  travel  on  your  way 

Making  Winter  seem  like  May, 
Thou  jocund,  jovial  jester  in  a  world  of  tears! 

Then  when  the  sure  day  shall  come 

As  solemn  as  a  muffled  drum 
When  the  windows  darken  and  the  oil  has  run 

From  Life's  little,  fragile  lamp, 

You  can  meet  John  Henry  Kampp 
As  serenely  as  the  sunset  when  the  day  is  done  1 

Read  at  the  annual  Banquet  of  the  Wheaton  Business 
Men's  Association  in  the  Masonic  Temple,  December  9, 
1920. 


Edward  Garrity 

'Ay,  every  inch  a  king." — Shakespeare 

Beneath    the    dignity    of    gray    hair 
A    merry   heart   beats    high, 
Nor   is    there    dearth 
Of  proper  mirth 
Within    that    kindly    eye ! 

Of  regal   frame   and   mien   that  might 
Well    lift   a    haughty   head 
And    look    with    scorn 
On    the    low-born 
Who   toil   for   daily   bread, 

He    mingles    with    his    fellow   men 
And  holds  them  as  his   peer, 

And    every    day 

Along   the    way 
He    scatters    help    and    cheer! 

215 


With    wisdom    like   the   ripened   grain 
He    bows    to    every    one, 

To   king   and   thrall, 

Alike    to    all 
Who    dwell    beneath    the    sun! 

Of  humor  rare  and  a  rich  wit, 
Smooth    and    crisp    and    keen, 

That    bubbles    up 

Like    a    bright    cup 
Of    sparkling    Hippocrene ! 

An    upright    man    of    sober    sense, 
And   yet   a   foe   to   care, 

Who    shows    the    Sun 

To    every    one 
Who    walks    in    dark    despair! 

His    cordial    laugh    dispels    the    clouds 
That    shroud    the    sunny    plain, 

As   the    fresh    breeze 

To    sunlit    seas 
Transmutes    the    misty    main! 

In    sweet    concord    within    him    meet 
Decorum   and   good    cheer, 

The    grave    and    gay, 

Yuletide    and    May, 
And   jester,    sage   and   seer! 

Our    sunny   streets   long   may   you   walk 
In    noble    equipoise, 
A    guide,    forsooth, 
To   age    and   youth 
And    happy-hearted    boys! 

For   genial    smile    and    hearty    hand 
And    counsel    wise    and    true 

And    gen'rous    deed 

In   time    of    need, 
A    City's   thanks    are   due! 

216 


EDWARD   GARRITY 

Wheaton  Business  Man.  Manager  West- 
ern United  Gas  and  Electric  Company.  Ex- 
Alderman  City  of  Wheaton. 


The  flowers  of  our  love  we  bind 
In    bouquets    bright    and    sweet, 
And    with    supreme 
Pride    and    esteem 
We    lay   them   at   your   feet! 


IN  MEMORIAM 
Edward  Garrity 

A  bright  and  lovely  star  has  set 

In   splendor   in  the  sea, 
A  gem  from  the  great  coronet 

Of   Heaven's   majesty! 

In   flawless   and   resplendent  sheen 
That  challenged  every  eye, 

Noble,    pure    and    serene, 

It  shone  in  earth's  dark  sky! 

The   silent   constellations   sweep 
Forever  towards  the  West 

And  kindred  stars  mute  vigils  keep 
Above  their  comrade's  rest! 

Farewell  to  that  gentle  ray 
And  to  that  kindly  light 

Whose  going  has  darkened  the  Day 
And  veiled  the  solemn  Night ! 


Linn  Hiatt 

—A  "  reg'lar  "  guy — 

I'd  rather   die 

Than   tell   a   lie 
About  Linn  Hiatt,  bless  his  heart; 

I'd   rather  drown 

Or    crack    my   crown 
Or  have  my  kidneys  pulled  apart! 

217 


If    what    I   say- 
About  our  gay 

And  gen'rous,  genial,  loyal  Linn, 
Errs  from  the  truth, 
I   pray   Babe   Ruth 

May  swat  me  with  a  rolling  pin! 

I'll  tell  the  world 

The   flag  unfurled 
In  glory  over  land  and  sea 

Does   not   behold 

Beneath    its    fold 
Another  mortal  such   as   he! 

I  like  his  style 

His   cordial   smile, 
The  twinkle  of  his  merry  eye, 

The  skillful  ways 

He   throws    bouquets 
Of  cheer  to  every  passer  by! 

I  would  not  paint 

Linn  as  a  saint, 
But  in   those  things  that  make  a  man 

Linn   is   all   there 

(Except   his    hair) 
And  built  upon  a  noble  plan! 

He  plays   base  ball 

And   joins    in   all 
The  zeal  and  frenzy  of  the  game, 

He   plays   the   drum 

When   heroes   come 
In  triumph  home  from  fields  of  fame! 

He   drives   a  "  tin," 

(As  men  of  sin 
In  blasphemy  yclept  a  Ford)  ; 

But  let  me  ride 

At  Linn's   right   side 
And  you  can  have  duke,  king  or  lord! 

218 


LINNAEUS   L.  HIATT 
Druggist    and    Merchant 


No  worthy  palms 

Stretched   out  for  alms 
Were  ever  empty  drawn  away, 

No  plea   for   aid 

Was  e'er  gainsaid 
To  those  who  sought  him  night  or  day! 

Gay   old   Front    Street 

Were  incomplete 
Without  that  smooth  and  smiling  phiz, 

That  warm,  glad  hand 

At  the  old  stand 
And  those   alluring  ways   of   his! 

And    now,    dear    Linn, 

Tilt  up  your  chin 
And  look  these  people  in  the  eye 

Who  touch  their  lids 

And  like  the  kids 
Salute    you   as    a    "  reg'lar "   guy! 


John  H.  Kampp 

This  song  I  sing 

Of  an  uncrowned  king 

Is  not  rhyme  without  reason, 
Else  would  my  verse 
Deserve  the  curse 

Of  the  fig  tree  out  of  season! 

I  only  use 

My  gentlest   Muse 
His   noble   worth   extolling, 

Nor  need  I  come 

With  war-like  drum 
In   martial    measures    rolling! 

219 


A  man   rough-hewn, 

Yet  kind  as  June, 
A  man  of  oak  and  flower, 

As  interlace 

The    strength    and    grace 
Of  an  ivy  mantled  tower! 

Rich   is   his   state 

If  gold   we   rate 
A  life  of  honest   labors, 

And   if  we  deem 

Wealth,   the   esteem 
And  love  of  loyal  neighbors! 

The    City's    weal 

Ne'er    made    appeal 
But   in   o'erflowing  measure 

And  undelayed 

Received  his  aid 
His  heart  and  hand  and  treasure! 

The   tocsin   bell 
And  blasts  that   tell 

That  the  fierce  fiend  of  fire 
Is  close  at  hand 
With    flaming   brand 

Working    destruction    dire 

Find   him  foremost 

With   the   brave   host 
Fighting  the  red  invaders 

Like    Galahad 

Or   corselet-clad 
And  helmeted  Crusaders! 

When  grief's  black  pall 

O'ershadows  all 
And  sad  souls  sit  in  sorrow 

Disconsolate 

At  their  dark  fate 
And  the  still  darker  morrow, 

220 


JOHN    H.    KAMPP 
Leading    Business    Man 
Veteran    Fire    Marshal 


Then    stands    he 
Like  some  great  tree 

Its  widespread  arms  extending 
O'er  flowers  frail 
That  quake  and  quail 

Before  the  storm  impending! 

Above  the  gems 

Of  diadems 
In   their   spotless   splendor 

Is  a  good  man 

Built  on  his  plan, 
Red-blooded,  strong,  yet  tender! 

Like  petals  gay 

In   a  bouquet 
Their  many  beauties   meeting, 

A  thousand  strong 

Join  in  this  song 
And  send  you   cordial  greeting. 


May  26,  1921. 


221 


Dr.   Harlow  V.   Holt 

"A  scholar,  and  a  ripe  and  good  one,  exceeding  wise, 
fair    spoken    and    persuading." — Shakespeare. 

Refreshing  breeze 

From  the  great   seas 
That  ebb  and  flow  and  swell  and  roll 

From  side  to  side 

Of  the  deep,  wide 
Expanse  of  man's  unfathomed  soul! 

My  brow  I  bare 

To  that  keen  air 
Whose  tang  and  tingle  thrill  me  through, 

And  feel  retreat 

The  hectic  heat 
And  health's  red  glow  return  anew! 

This  breeze  in  War 

Rose  to  a  roar 
And  shook  the  deep  and  shoal  and  strand 

And  wide  unrolled 

The  starry  fold 
High  o'er  Columbia's  khaki  band! 

Waft,  kindly  breeze, 

Rich  argosies 
Whose  sunlit  sails  are  filled  with  light 

And  bring  new  hope 

To  those  who  grope 
In  mist  and  fog  and  storm-tossed  Night! 

This   stagnant   fen 

Of   dead-souled   men; 
This  vale  where  dry  bones  bleach  in  death, 

Hath  yet,  indeed, 

The  direst  need 
Of  this  life-giving,  vital  breath! 

222 


REV.  HARLOW  V.  HOLT 
Pastor  Garv  Memorial  M.  E.  Church 


WILLIAM   E.   GARY 
Cashier  Gary-Wheaton  Bank,  Wheaton,  Illinois 


William  E.  Gary 

"  The  man's  the  gold." — Robert  Burns 

Here  is  pure  gold,  with   Caesar's  seal 
And  image  in  relief  displayed, 

Coin  of  the  world's  great  Commonweal 
And  current  in  the  marts  of  trade! 

On  the  Rialtos  of  the  earth, 

In  the  Exchequers  of  the  State, 

Accepted   for   intrinsic   worth 

Among  the  lowly  and  the  great! 

We  pin  our  faith  upon  his  word 

And  script  and  credit  give  and  take 

As  carefree   as   a   Summer  bird 

And  tranquil  as  a  Summer  lake! 

We  ask  no  bond,  his  pledge  is  good 

And  makes  us  safe  in  peace  and  war, 

As  though  the  Bank  of  England  stood 
Behind  him  with  its  golden  store! 

A  silent  man  of  modest  mien 

And  qualities  of  heart  and  mind 

Akin   to   the   resplendent    sheen 

Of   new  gold  polished   and   refined! 

O,  man  of  kingly  metal  made, 

The  tribute  of  esteem  we  bring; 

Knight  by  God's  great   accolade 

That  makes  a  man  more  than  a  king. 


223 


To 

Charles  W.  Hadley 

(On    retiring   from    the    State's    Attorneyship) 

A  long  apprenticeship  is   o'er 

For   one  who  years   before   the   mast 
Has  sailed  the  ocean   deep  and  vast 

And  learned  its  secrets  and  its  lore ! 

A  steady  hand,  a  head  that  knows, 
A   practiced  vision  keen  and  clear, 
A   knowledge   that   dispels   all   fear 

Of  every  adverse  wind  that  blows ! 

A  great,  new  ship  lies  at  the  pier, 

Her  bright  prow  pointing  to  the  tide, 
Waiting  a    Master  skilled  to  guide, 

To  hold  the  course  or  tack  and  veer; 

A  Master  and  a  pilot  wise 

Who  knows  the  zones  of  calm  and  breeze, 
The  trade  winds  of  the  Seven   Seas 

And  all  the  tides  that  fall  and  rise; 

Who  knows  the  shallow  outer  bars, 
The   hidden   rock   and   sunken  reef, 
The  headlands  high  in  bold  relief, 

The  lighthouse  and  the  gleaming  stars! 

Here  is  the  ship.     There  is  the  sea, 
O  seasoned  seaman  take  command, 
The  helm  awaits  your  guiding  hand, 

The  great  deep   beckons   unto   thee! 

So  YOU  who  swept  the  law's  vast  realm 
That  touches  all  the  isles  of  men, 
With  bolder  heart  and  keener  ken 

To  greater  seas  must  turn  your  helm! 

224 


CHARLES   W.   HADLEY 

State's    Attorney    of    Du    Page    County,    Illinois 

Assistant   Attorney    General,    State    of    Illinois 


You  know  the  landmarks  and  the  lights 
The  law  has  set  where  breakers  roar, 
You  know  along  the  far-flung  shore 

The   haven  of  all  human   rights ! 

You  know  the  goodly  vessel's  heart, 

Each  spar  and  boom  and  gaff  and  yard, 
The   many  pointed   compass-card 

And  pinholes  on  her  pilot  chart! 

Great  honors  are  in  store  for  you; 
In   halls   of  Justice   and   of   State 
The  ermine  and  the  toga   wait, — 

Stretch  forth  your  hand  and  take  your  due! 
December  14,  1920. 

Charles  W.  Hadley 

(On  winning  the  Rock  Island  cases) 

The    replica    in   law 

Of  Bonaparte  in  war 
Whose   star  the   nations   saw 

And   fell   prostrate   before! 

Profile  and  poise  and  brow 
Of   Corsica's   great   son, 

He  stands  triumphant  now, 
His  Austerlitz  is  won! 

In  Forum,  Court  and  Bar, 
There    his   tricolor   flies 

And  there  his  vict'ries  are — 
Marengos,  Ulms,  Lodis ! 

Clear  cut  in  bold  relief, 

Clean  as  a  bloodhound's  tooth, 

Subaltern,  Marshal,  Chief, 

While   even   yet   a   Youth ! 

With  loyal  hearts  and  proud 
We  shout  applause  to  thee, 

With  "  vivas "  long  and  loud, 
Thou  Man  of  Destiny! 

225 


Charles  W.  Hadley 

On   winning  case  against  high   State  official. 

That  was  a  noble  stroke 
And  a  good  lance  that  broke 

The  robber's  triple  helm 
And  gave  his  stolen  gold, 
Of  millions  yet  untold, 

Back  to  its  rightful  realm! 

A  blow  that  holds  a  place 
With    Richard's   iron   mace 

And  Galahad's   true  blade 
That  freed  the  Holy  land 
From  the  Unfaithful's  hand 

In  their  far-off  Crusade  ! 

You  have  wiped  a  deep  stain 
From  off  the  noble  plain 

Of   mighty    Illinois, 
And   let  us  lift  once  more, 
As   in  the   days  of  yore, 

Our  heads  in  pride  and  joy! 

Oh,  modern  Hercules, 
In  evil  times  like  these 

When    Hydra's    heads    appear, 
We  need  your  good  right  hand, 
Your   giant-cleaving   brand 

And  dragon-piercing  spear! 

Oh,  Champion,  we  hail 
Your  lance  and  shining  mail, 

Your  plume  and  spur  and  steed 
And  wreathe  your  brow  with  bays 
And   sing  in  loyal  lays 

Of  your  resplendent  deed ! 

November  18,  1924. 

226 


HAROLD   "RED"   GRANGE 
University  of  Illinois  Football  Player 


14  Red  "  Grange 

We   sing  a   song 

Of  the  swift  and  strong, 
The  whirlwind  and  the  thunder, 

And  in  the  sky 

Of  the  Illini 
The  star  of  awe  and  wonder! 

A  shooting  star 

Flaming  afar 
Across  a  watching  nation, 

Whose  glowing  trail 

We  greet  and  hail 
With  thundering  salutation! 

Our   cheers   arise 

And  touch  the  skies 
And  shake  the  empyrean, 

And  lusty  throats 

Blend  their  wild  notes 
In  one  triumphant  pean ! 

He  is  the  peer 

Of  the  mountain   deer 
With  the  wild  hills  surrounding, 

And   strong  and   fleet 

On  nimble   feet 
A  young  red  roebuck  bounding! 

Of  antlered  speed 

And  lion  breed 
And  red  fox  craft  and  cunning, 

Fearless  in  fight, 

And  in  his  flight 
The  swiftest  stag  out-running! 

227 


We  toss  our  crests 

And  swell  our  chests 
O,  victor,  never-beaten  ! 

And  roar  and  cheer 

For   the   wild   deer 
And   lion-fox    from  Wheaton ! 


Grange 

Tune:  Illinois 

To  thy  noble  Halls  of  Learning 

Illinois,  Illinois, 
All  the  eyes  of  earth  are  turning 

Illinois,    Illinois, 
For  th     sons  have  put  to  rout 
The  Philistines  roundabout, 
And  for  thee  we  sing  and  shout, 

Illinois,  Illinois, 
And  for  thee  we  sing  and  shout, 

Illinois ! 

On   thy  shining  scroll  of   splendor 

Illinois,  Illinois, 
Gleams  the  name  of  thy  defender, 

Illinois,   Illinois, 
Like  a  bright  star  overhead, 
And  the   bravest   foemen  dread 
Thy  great  son  whom  we  call  "  Red," 

Illinois,  Illinois, 
Thy  great  son  whom  we  call  "  Red," 

Illinois! 

But  thy  hero  yet  unbeaten, 

Illinois,  Illinois, 
Came  to  thee  from  good  old  Wheaton, 

Illinois,  Illinois, 
From  the  home  of  mighty  men, 

228 


With  the  speed  and  strength  of  ten, 
Like  a  lion  from  his  den, 

Illinois,   Illinois, 
Like  a  lion  from  his  den, 

Illinois ! 

On  the  page  that  tells  the  story, 

Illinois,   Illinois, 
Of  the   world's   gridiron   glory, 

Illinois,   Illinois, 
Shall  be   blazoned   clear  and  true, 
Chief  of  the  immortal  few, 
The  great  son  we  gave  to  you, 

Illinois,   Illinois, 
The  great  son  we  gave  to  you, 

Illinois ! 


The  Badgers 

(After   Byron's  "Assyrian  ") 

The  Badgers  came  down  from  the  land  of  the  Pine 
To  burn  up  the  prairies  and  tear  through  the  line; 
Like  the  Hun  to  the   Marne  in  their  fury  they  came, 
Like  the  Hun  from  the  Marne  they  retreated  in   shame! 

For  the  great  State  of  Lincoln  and  Logan  and  Grant 

Set  its  sons  like  a  wall  of  strong  adamant, 

And  vain  was  the  charge  and  futile  the  roar 

As  the  billows  that  break  on  the  rock-girdled  shore! 

And  Grange,  the  young  lion  whose  scholastic  lair 
Is  Wheaton,  the  home  of  the  brave  and  the  fair, 
The  redoubtable  "  Red,"  tore  over   the   plain 
And  left  in  his  wake  a  windrow  of  slain. 

He  plowed  through  the  Badgers  as  Pershing's  brave  Yanks 
Plowed  through  the  Argonne  with  cannon  and  tanks, 
And  the  big  boot  of  Britton,  unerring  and  true, 
Heaped  up  the  high  score  for  the  Orange  and  Blue! 

229 


And  the  sad,  somber  hemlocks  are  mute  in  their  woe 
And  droop  desolately,  despondent  and  low, 
And  the  weeds  that  the  widows  of  Wisconsin  wear 
Are   black  as  the   ebony  plume  of   Despair! 

And  the  unsullied  flag  of  the  Great  Illini 

Triumphantly  flaunts  in  an  unclouded  sky, 

The  Paramount  Pennant  in  vict'ry  unfurled 

O'er  the  greatest  and  noblest  School  in  the  World! 

On  Illinois-Wisconsin  Football  Game,  1923 


"  Red  "  Grange  in  1924 

He's  getting  better  every  year, 
A  slyer  fox,  a  swifter  deer, 

A  brighter   flash   of   flame. 
A  stronger  stag  of  greater  speed, 
A  wildcat  of  the    Zuppke   breed 

That  none  can  ever  tame! 

A  lion  with   a   fiercer  roar, 
A   louder   thunderbolt   of    war 

With  deadlier  aftermath 
That  leaves  behind  in  ghastly  rows 
The   prostrate   forms  of  fallen    foes 

Along  his  crimson  path  ! 

He   tears   thru   the   opposing  teams 
As  when  the   fast   mails'  pilot   beams 

Strike  some  hapless  Fords 
And  reconverts  the  work  of  men 
Back   into    shapeless    tin    again 

And   glass   and   splintered   boards! 

Before    his    terrible    impact 

That  crumples  every  line  attacked 

Xo   mortal   can   survive 
More  than  the  honey-hoarding  bee 
When  a  ton  of  T.  N.  T. 

Drops   on   his   peaceful  hive! 

230 


Up  from  the  plains  of  Illini 

A  song  arises  to  the  sky- 
Triumphantly  and  grand, 

A   hundred   thousand  tongued   refrain 

That  rolls  from  Wheaton  to  Champaign 
And   "Egypt's"   sunny   land! 

And  the  theme  of  this  great  song 

Is  Red  the  Swift  and  Red  the  Strong 

And   Red  the  panther's  paw, 
Red  the  spur  and  plume  of  Youth, 
Red,  the   cleanest   tiger's  tooth 

The   gridiron   ever   saw! 

Prof.  J.  B.  Russell 

A  Teacher  true  through  all  the  trying  times 

That  lie  within  the  school  days  of  a  youth, 

A   Master  turning   discord  into  peaceful   chimes, 

A  Mentor  pointing  out  the  way  of  light  and  truth! 

Exemplar  wise,  giving  his  precepts  weight, 

He  walked  the  road  of  rectitude  in  unassuming  mien, 
His  life  on  open  scroll  fair  and  immaculate 

As  Heaven's  stars  arrayed  in  shining  silver  sheen! 

The  seed  sown  in  three  decades  by  his  kindly  hand 
Stands  in  rich  fruition  on  a  thousand  plains 

Like  an  abundant  harvest  in  a  fertile  land 

Blest  by  genial  sunshine  and  refreshing  rains! 

Like  a  song  of  sunset  in  a  sapphire  sea 

Tuned  to  the  tender  cadence  of  an  evening  bell, 

Without  words  to  utter  its  sweet  melody, 

Is  the  mighty  chorus  of  our  hearts'  farewell! 

We  send  our  salutations  earnest  and  sincere 
To  this  Christian  Scholar  and  his  noble  corps 

As  loved  ones  stand  and  wave  from  the  embarking  pier 
To  out-bound  argosies  that  shall  return  no  more! 

231 


Alumni  Farewell  Song,  W.  H.  S. 

To  Prof.  J.  B.  Russell,  Miss  Ella  M.  Gregg,  Mrs.  Marga- 
ret Jewett. 

Dear   Old    Friends   and   True 

Tune:  "Dear  Old  Pal  of  Mine" 

All   our   souls   are   saddened 

As  old  friends   depart, 
Clouds  hang  heavy  in  the  sky 

And  a  flood  of  mem'ries 
Grips  the  aching  heart 

And  drives  a  bitter  mist  before  the  eyel 

CHORUS— 

Oh,   how   we'll  miss   you, 

Dear  old  Friends  and  true, 
The  best  and  dearest  that  we  ever  knew. 

Wheaton's   heart   is   beating 

Wheaton's  farewell  greeting, 

Its  endless  love  repeating 
Dear  old  Friends,  to  you! 

Teachers,  kind  and  tender, 

Through    the   youthful   years 
That  silently  have  fled  away, 

We  can  only  render 
The  tribute  of  our  tears 

And  the  words  the  heart  alone  can  say! 


Sung  at  the  1924  Wheaton  High  School  Alumni  Banquet. 


232 


PROF.  J.   B.   RUSSELL 

Ex-College   Professor 

Superintendent   of    Schools,   Wheaton,    Illinois 


< 


'  ^ 


MRS.   MARGARET  W.    FEWET1 


■ 


MISS  ELLA  M.  GREGG 


1922  Coronation  Ode 

(To  F.  F.) 

Queen  of  the  Fair, 
So  debonaire, 

Demure  and  sweet, 
We  pledge  to  you 
Allegiance  true, 

Full  and  complete ! 

Upon   your  hand 
This  jewelled  band, 

This  signet  ring, 
This  shining  seal, 
Denotes  the  leal 

Firm  faith  we  bring! 

A  gracious  sway 
Be  yours  alway, 

And  a  long  reign 
Of   peaceful  years 
Devoid  of  tears 

Bless  your  domain ! 

From  prince   and  thrall, 
We,  one  and  all, 

Before  you  bow, 
And  proudly  set 
The  coronet 

Upon   your  brow! 


233 


1924  Coronation  Ode 

Queen   of   May 

(To  A.  F.) 

A  noble  town 

Bestows  its  crown 
Upon  a  noble  Queen 

Of  youthful  grace 

And  winsome  face 
And  regal  pose  and  mienl 

As   sweet  and   gay 

As   a   bouquet 
Fresh  with  the  morning  dew, 

Nor  has  the  Sun 

Looked  down  on  one 
More  beautiful  to  view! 

The  Queen  we  name 

By  the  acclaim 
Of  our  sovereign  voice 

Is   all   our   own 

Raised  to  the  throne 
By  our  freemen's  choice! 

This  diadem 

And   this   bright   gem 
Set  in  a   shining  ring 

Of   flawless   hue 

Denotes  the  true 
Firm  fealty  we   bring! 

Long  live  the  Queen 

High  and  serene 
And  long  be  her  bright  reign, 

And  her  sweet  sway 

An  endless  May 
Over  this  great  domain  1 

234 


1924. 


From  Court  House  Friends 

(To  B.  M.  S.) 

0  pleasant  woman,  jolly  friend, 

In  whom  all  goodness  doth  repose 

As   lovely  colors   meet  and  blend 

Within  a  bright,  resplendent  rose! 

We  give  you  this  true  loving  cup 
That  holds  a  rare  and  richer  wine 

Of  life  than  ever  bubbled  up 

From  blood  of  purple-clustered  vine! 

For  it  doth  hold  for  you  today, 

Fresh  as  the  early  morning  dew 

And  fragrant  as  a  sweet  bouquet, 

The  flowers  of  our  love  for  you ! 

We  e'er  shall  heed  your  royal  call 

And  our  swords  sustain  your  State, 

For  we  are  loyal  subjects,  all — 
O    Queen   Elizabeth   the   Great! 


To  "  Doc  M   (on  vacation) 
(G.  C  G.) 

Here's  to  a  king, 

If  such  a  thing 
Can  be  in  U.   S.  A., 

At   any    rate 

The  best  to  date 
That's  come  along  our  way! 

235 


A  royal  scout 
Inside   and   out, 
Up  to  the  nick  of  time, 
With  joke  and  jest 
That   beat   the   best 


With  spice  and  pep 

He  puts  us  "  hep  " 
To  the  best  things  of  Life, 

With  wit  and  glee 

And  repartee 
Keen  as  a  surgeon's  knife! 

We  send  these   lines 

To  the  tall  pines 
By  noble  Lake  Gunlock, 

Our  love  to  bear 

Unto  the  rare, 
Unique  and  only  "Doc"! 


September  19,  1924. 


The  Court  House  Valedictory 

(To   C.   B.   A.) 

(with  purse) 

Dear  Friend  to  whom  we  come  today 
With  gold  and  golden  words  to  pay 

A  tithe  of  what  is  due, 
The  pathway  of  the   Past  was  sweet 
And  days  to  come  shall  be  replete 

With  pleasant  thoughts  of  you! 

To  us  your  kindly  deeds  shall  stand 
Like  lovely  lilies  tall  and  grand 

In  some  fair  garden  plot 
Rich  with  rose  and  migonette 
And  carpeted   with  violet 

And  blue  forget-me-not ! 

236 


How  sweetly  were  combined  in  you 
The  heart  to  prompt  and  hand  to  do 

A  good  and  friendly  act, 
And  there  was  added  to  your  skill 
And  to  your  generous  good-will 

Exquisite   taste   and   tact! 

Take  thou  this  little  purse  of  gold, 
This  symbol  of  the  love  we  hold, 

This  token  of  esteem, 
And  may  it  be  without  alloy 
A  talisman  to  bring  you  joy 

And  happiness  supreme! 

And  after  days  of  peace  and  rest 
May  you  return  from  the  Great  West 

In  hope  and  health  complete 
And  in  your  merry  manner  bring 
The  buds  and  birds  that  make  the  Spring 

Perennially  sweet ! 


October  3,  1923. 


Farewell  Ode 

(To  F.  G.  O.) 

Good-bye,   dear  Fred, 
From  heel  to  head 

You  are  a  king, 
To  whom  we  bow 
And   low  kow-tow 

And  dance  and  sing! 

To  us  you  are 
A  shining  star 

In  a  clear  sky 
That  makes  the  Night 
Such  a  delight 

To  every  eye ! 

237 


You  have  a  worth 
Above   high   birth 

And  royal  rank, 
Like  gold  that  fills 
The  teeming  tills 

Of  Gary's  Bank. 

Adonis'   face, 
Apollo's   grace 

And  faultless   form, 
And  locks   as  black 
As  the  cloud-rack 

Of    Midnight's    storm 

In    lighter   vein 
We    all   maintain 

You  are  true  blue, 
The  owl's  eyebrow, 
The  cat's  meow, 

The  berries,  too! 

The  kitten's  purr, 
The  cricket's  spur. 

The  lion's  roar, 
You  are  a  dream, 
Peaches   and   cream 

All  sugared  o'er ! 

But  without  jest, 
You  are  the  crest 

Of    high    knighthood 
More  than   we  tell 
We  wish  you  well 

And  all  that's  good! 

Though  you   depart 
Yet  in  each  heart 

Loyal  and  true 
There  shall  be  kept, 
Garnished  and  swept, 

A  nook  for  you ! 

September  27,  1924. 

238 


1924. 


To  M  Bluefox  M 

(Country   home    near   Wheaton) 

A  cloister   of   cares   completest    surcease 

Amid  blossoming  orchard's  heavy  perfume, 

Where  a  soldier  sings  in  a  lodge  of  peace 
And  a  throstle  is  heard  in  the  lilac  bloom  1 

A  poet  lives  there,  with  Fancy's  pen, 

A  painter  of  thoughts  in   delicate  hues, 

And  songs  that  sleep  in  the  bosoms  of  men 
Awake  at  the  call  of  his  beautiful  Muse! 

Here  Springtime   brings   perennial  birds 
And   Summer  a   girdle  of  golden   grain 

And  Autumn  its  colors  surpassing  all  words 
And  Winter  an  ermine  robe  for  the  plain! 

But  the  aura  around  this  most  charming  place 
Are  the  souls  that  live  in  the  dear  retreat 

Where  courteous  manners  and  womanly  grace 
And  wisdom  and  wit  and  kindly  hearts  meet! 

O  fragment  of  Eden   remaining  on   earth, 
O  bower  of  beauty,  vibrant  and   mute, 

O  people  rich  in  the  world's  true  worth, 
Take   thou   a   friend's    sincerest   salute ! 


239 


William  W.  Steven 

"A  merry   heart  doeth  good  like  a  medicine. 

To  this  good  friend 

We    all   extend 
The  glad  and  merry  mitt 

And  thank  him  for 

His    goodly    store 
Of  mirth  and  jolly  wit! 

At  the   dark  state 

Of  adverse  fate 
He  laugheth  long  and  loud 

And   silvers   o'er 

By  magic  lore 
The  linings  of  the  cloud! 

In  spite  of  care 

And  Time's  gray  hair 
He  walks  the  fields  of  June 

Where  on  gay  wings 

The  laverock  sings 
His  glad  and  gleeful  tune! 

By  jest   and  joke 

The  heavy  yoke 
Of  Life  he  makes  more  light 

As  Dawn  uplifts 

And  lightning  rifts 
The  blackness  of  the  Night! 

His   faults,  tho   few, 

Are  hid  from  view 
By  his  congenial  ways 

As   ivies   hide 

The   crannied    side 
Of  towers  from  our  gaze ! 

240 


WILLIAM    \Y.    STEVEN 
Business    Man,    Supervisor 


To  him  we  sing 

"Long  live   the   King" 
Repeating  the  refrain 

And  may  his  sway 

Be  every  day 
A  merry  monarch's  reign ! 


To  Bill  and  Sue 


We  say  adieu 

To  Bill  and  Sue 
And  from  the  heart 

We  wish  them  well 

More   than   lips   tell 
Or  words  impart ! 

For   Bill  and   Sue 
Ma>    skies  be  blue 

And  seas  be  calm 

And  where  they  go 
Kind  breezes  blow 

Their  healing   balm! 

The  world's  good  will 
With  Sue  and  Bill 

For  aye  abide 

And    fine    Fate    bring 
Them  some  good  thing 

With   every   tide ! 

The   gen'rous    deed 

To  those  in   need 
That  Bill  and  Sue 

So  often  did 

Shall  not  be  hid 
From  the  heart's  view  ! 

241 


To  us  who  say- 
Farewell,   today, 

With   deep    regret, 

Their  good  deeds  done 
Shall  be  a   Sun 

That  shall  not  set! 

A  thousand  years 

Devoid  of  tears 
And  free  from  ill 

Be   unto  you 

O  splendid  Sue 
And  noble   Bill! 


April  23,  1925. 


To 

Newton  E.  Matter 

(With  flowers,  while  sick) 

This  little  nosegay  that  we  send 
Is  mute — yet  you  can  comprehend 

The  story  that  it  tells, 
E'en  as  there  is  no  need  of  words 
To  interpret  the  songs  of  birds 

Or   notes   of   silver  bells ! 

Every   floweret   bright   and   gay 
Doth  ope  its  smiling  lips   to  say 

That  all  your  friends  are  true; 
And   for   your   royal  health   we   pour 
The    crystal   full   and   brimming   o'er 

And  drink  it  dry  to  you! 

Be  thou,  O  strong  man,  of  good  cheer 
In  gloom  the  songs  of  saint  and  seer 

WTith  clearer  cadence  rang; 
These  flowers  blossomed  after  rain, 
And  in  a  sweeter,  purer  strain 

The  chastened   Psalmist  sang! 

242 


NEWTON    E.    MATTER 
Editor,  Alderman,  Coroner,  Supervisor 


JUDGE    ELBERT    II.   GARY 


The  sweet  and  honey-laden  phlox 
And  tall,  rich-colored  hollyhocks, 

And  all   within   the  scope 
'Twixt  violet  and  drifting  snow, 
And  all  the  scented  winds  that  blow 

Are   prophecies  of  Hope ! 

So  brace  your  heart  and  mind  and  soul, 
And  shortly,  safe  and  sound  and  whole, 

We'll  see  you  face  to  face 
Eager  and  ready  for  the  strife 
And  down  the  long  highway  of  Life 

To   run   a  goodly  race! 


Judge   Elbert   H.    Gary 

A   lofty    Lighthouse    by   the    side 

Of    troubled    Toil's    unresting    sea, 

A  constant   light  to   warn  and  guide, 
It  stands  in   kingly  majesty! 

A  shaft   of  fire   in  the  Night 

To  show  the  wanderers  the  way 

As    Egypt's    toilers    in    their    flight 

Were   led   by  the  God-kindled  ray! 

By  Day  it  lifts  its  mighty  form 

Over  the  reef  and  treacherous  shoal 

Far-seen   where  in   distress  and   storm 
The  heavy  freighters  lurch  and  roll! 

The  wrathful  billows  in  their  might 
Lashed  by  the  angry  hurricane 

Oft  would  o'erthrow  and  quench  that  light 
But  rage  and  beat  and  break  in  vain! 

And   Industry's    great    galleys    go, 

And  Labor's   argosies   come   home, 

And  Commerce  traffics  to  and  fro 

On  all  the  far-flung  fields  of  foam; 

243 


They  thread  the  Narrows  to  the  Deep, 
They   safely  pass   the  harbor  bar, 

And   in   their    changing   courses   keep 
Their  bearings  by  this  brilliant  star! 

Great  Lighthouse  by  the  seas  of  men 

Rising  majestic   to  the  skies, 
Keep  watch   with  thine  unerring  ken 

And  kindly  light,  tranquil  and   wise! 

July   5,   1925. 

(Native  son.    First  Mayor  of  Wheaton.     Head  of  United 
States   Steel  Corporation.) 


Rev.   F.   Hobart   Millett 

The  boy-divine,  the  shepherd  youth 
Of  ruddy  cheeks  and  sunny  locks 
Who    tendeth    here   his    Father's   flocks 

And  feeds  them  in  the  fields  of  Truth! 

A  pastor  still  to  reach  his  prime, 
Yet  in  the  higher  Wisdom  wise 
Beyond   the   scholarship  that   lies 

Within  the  stored  up  tomes  of  Time! 

A  countenance  and  vital  breath 
(But  only  in  a  less  degree) 
Like  Him  who  taught  in  Galilee 

And  walked  the  streets  of  Xazareth! 

The  House  of  Faith  is  his  concern, 

A   swept   and   garnished   place   of   prayer, 
A   never   failing  altar  where 

The  Light's  incessant  tapers  burn  ! 

And  yet  he  does  not  live  apart, 

His   cloister  is   the  world  out-spread 
Where   men   toil   for   their   daily  bread 

With  fainting  flesh  and  heavy  heart! 

244 


REV.   F.   IK) I] ART   MILLETT 

Pastor   Trinity   Episcopal   Church 

Wheaton,  Illinois 


Iii  house  of  mirth  and  house  of  woe 

He  speaks  the  timely  tempered  word 
And  his  benignant  voice  is  heard 

Where'er  his  people  come  and  go! 

We  love  him  for  his  winning  smile. 
His  cordial  way  and  open  face, 
The  outward  and  the  inward  grace 

That  wreath  his  presence  all  the  while  ! 

Long   may   his  staff  and   shepherd-crook 
Give  comfort  to  the   troubled   plain 
As  fields  are  freshened  by  the   rain 

And  gladdened   by  the   running  brook! 

September  7,  1925. 


A  Salute 

Just   a    little   light   "  Hello " 

Like  a  gentle  flake  of  snow- 
Floating  by  : — 

Even   as   we   drift   along 

Through  this  life  of  sigh  and  song, 
And  then  die ! 

So  I  only  pause  to  say 
In  a  common,  casual  way. 

"  How  art  thou?  " 
And  saluting,  wave  my  fin. 
Tilt  my  lid  a  bit  and  grin 

And    kow-tow  ! 

And  I  say  by  word  and  sign 
Unto  thee,  O  friend  of  mine  ; — 

"  Peace  and  gold 
Be  attendant   on   thy  ways 
As  the  joy-filled,  busy  days 

Shall  unfold! 

245 


"And  into  the   dark   and   drear 
Sunless  souls  of  fret  and  fear 

And   despair, 
Let  the  lights   that  in   us  dwell 
Shine   refulgent   and   dispel 

All  their  care  ! 

"  Let  us   mock   the   world  of  strife 
And  laugh  at  the  lies  of  life 

Long  and  loud, 
Jeer  and  jest  and  joke  and  gibe 
At  the   Pharisee  and  Scribe 

Puffed  and   proud ! 

"Let   us   teach   the   world   the   worth 
Of  a   hearty,   wholesome   mirth 

Wed  to  wit. 
Keeping  bright  the  sunny  side 
And  the  lamps  of  joy  supplied, 

Trimmed   and    lit! 

"  Then  in  days  far  distant  yet 
When  the  sun  of  life  shall  set 

And   we  go 
The   way  of   unreturning   feet, 
There  shall  linger  long,  a  sweet 

Afterglow!  " 


246 


A  Wave  of  the  Hand 

A  wave  of  the  hand; 

And  flowers  expand 
Where  thorns  and  thistles  grew, 

And  the  arid  way 

Of  a  dreary  day 
Is  fresh  with  morning  dew! 

A  wave  of  the   hand; 

And  the   shifting   sand 
Is   a   valley   rich   and   fair, 

And    kindly    eyes 

Drive  from  the  skies 
The  heavy  clouds  of   care! 

A  wave  of  the  hand ; 

And    the    desert    land 
Doth   blossom  as  the  rose, 

And   a    pleasant    smile 

Holds  me  the  while 
And  I  forget  my  foes ! 

A  wave  of  the  hand, 

Like   a   clear  command 
From  the  battle-field  of  Life 

Bids  me  take  heart 

And   a   nobler  part 
In  the  realms  of  mortal  strife! 

A  wave  of  the  hand: 
And   bright  and  grand 

The  wayside  flowers  unfold, 
And   their   sweet   sway 
Earth's   common   clay 

Transmutes  to  shining  gold! 

247 


A  wave  of  the  hand 

We   understand 
Who  know  true  Friendship's  code 

Tis  a  cooling  glass 

To  all  who   pass 
Along  Life's   dusty   road ! 

A  wave  of   the  hand 

Kind  Providence  planned 
And  gave  like  sunbeams  bright 

That    we    might    send 

To  every   friend 
And  fill  the  world  with  light! 


248 


The   Birds 

Birds   of  plumage  rich  and  bright 
And  with  song  of  sweet  delight 

Clear  and  strong  and  true, 
Full  of   genial   Summer    sun 
All   the   smiling  seasons   run 

In   accord   with   you! 

Wheresoe'er  your  songs  are  heard 
Heavy  hearts  by  hope  deferred 

Lose   their  load  of  care, 
And  the  lights  in  saddened  eyes 
Like  the  breaking  dawn,  arise 

Dewy-bright  and  fair, 

At  the   sunrise,  like  the   lark, 
Like  the  nightingale  at  dark, 

Wild   and  wondrous   sweet, 
Making  all  the  moods  of  men 
Blend  in  harmony  again 

And  our  lives   complete ! 

Airy   Minnesingers,  bring 
All  your  joyous  caroling 

And   your  roundelays 
Till  the  hearts  of  men  are  thrilled 
By  the   melodies  that  filled 

Eden's   palmy   days! 


249 


1915. 


On  Reading  a  Booklet  of  Poems 

I   read   the   pages  of   this   book 

Within   an    hour's   time 
That   ran   by   like   a   pleasant   brook 

Through  Summer's  sunny  clime! 

And   mirroring   the   lord   of   light 

Within  the  bending  blue, 
The  floating  clouds,  the  birds  in  flight, 

The   rainbow's   varied   hue! 

I  saw  the  spirit's  poise  and  sweep — 

Like    eagles   in   the   sky — 
I  saw  the  plummet  search  the  deep 

Where   thoughts,  like  corals,  lie! 

The   tender   buds    of    Easter    morn, 

The  Autumn's   faded  leaf, 
The   blade,  the  ear,   the   ripened   corn, 

Are   bound   within   this   sheaf! 

The    secrets   of    a    seeking   soul 

In    choicest    language    told 
Were   spread  before  me  like  a   scroll 

In    majesty    unrolled! 

Refreshed  beside   this  way-side  well 
From  depths  beyond  my  ken, 

I  take  my  staff  and  scallop-shell 
And   journey   on    again! 


250 


REV.  E.  C  LUMSDEN 

Pastor  Gary  Memorial  Church  1920-1925 


To 

Rev.  E.  C.  Lumsden 

To  flowers,  birds  and  Summer  days 

We  sadly  say  adieu 
As  at  this  "  parting  of  the  ways  " 

We  speak  farewell  to  you! 

O   beautiful   as   Easter   morn 
In  lilies'  stainless  bloom 

When  Nature  seems  to  rise  new-born 
Triumphant  from  the  tomb, 

So  your  sunny  soul  and  face 
Unconsciously  revealed 

A  sweetness  like  the  charm  and  grace 
Of   Flora's   fragrant   field, 

And   your   hope-resurgent   words 
Unburdened  all  our  days 

Like  delightful  songs  of  birds 
Singing  sweet  roundelays ! 

Tho  flowers  fade  and  sweet  birds  go 
And  leave  the  meadows  sere 

Soon  to  be  buried  by  the  snow 
That  shrouds  the  dying  year. 

Yet  in  that  great  Ordering 
Of  Nature  and  of  Men 

The  Winter  shall  give  way  to  Spring 
And  Summer  come  again ! 

So  our  sadness  and  regret, 
By  the  deep  love  we  hold 

(As  clouds  of  Day  by  the  Sunset) 
Shall  turn  to  living  gold ! 

Orchards   gay   and  warbler's   tune 

And  Mem'ry's  silver  bell 
Make  your  life  an  endless  June 
Like  our  love — farewell ! 
October  19,  1925. 

251 


Song 

Mater  Carissima 

To  Virginia  Hughes  Herrick 

(On   Her   Eightieth   Birthday) 

(Tune :   "  Columbia,   the   Gem  of   the   Ocean ") 

O  Mother,  today  we  can  render 
But  a  tithe  of  the  tribute  that's  due, 
As  the  deep  faintly  mirrors  the  splendor 
Of  the  stars  in  the  infinite  blue; 
The  lips  cannot  tell  the  hearPs  story 
Nor  the  blessings  that  we  would  bestow 
On  thy  head  that  is  white  with  the  glory 
Of  fourscore  Winters   of  snow 
Of  fourscore  Winters   of  snow 
Of  fourscore  Winters   of  snow 
On  thy  head  that  is  white  with  the  glory 
Of  fourscore  Winters  of  snow ! 

But   deep   in   the   silence   unbroken 
Lie  the  treasures  of  love's  purest  gold 
More  precious  than  language  has  spoken 
And  truer  than  tongue  ever  told, 
And  fair  as  the  flow'ry  creations — 
Mute  minstrels  of  charm  and  delight — 
And  pure  as  the   grand   constellations 
That  silently  sweep  through  the  night 
That  silently  sweep  through  the  night 
That  silently  sweep  through  the  night 
And  pure   as   the  grand   constellations 
That  silently  sweep  through  the  night! 

252 


With  thy  crown  like  the  sunlight  adorning 

The   mountain   with   snow-covered   crest 

Thou  hast  come  from  the  portals  of  Morning 

To  the  Sunset  land  of  the  West 

With  many  more  years  than  were  promised — 

Exceeding   the   threescore   and   ten — 

And  passing  the  point  by  the  Psalmist 

Set  down  for  the  children  of  men 

Set  down  for  the  children  of  men 

Set  down  for  the  children  of  men 

And   passing  the  point  by  the   Psalmist 

Set  down  for  the  children  of  men! 

Not  the  strains  of  a  song  comprehending 
All  the  melodies  under  the  sun 
When  the  daughters  of  music  are  blending 
Their  symphonies   sweet  into   one; 
Nor  the  chimes  and  the  great  organ  pealing, 
Nor  the  music  that  mortal  e'er  heard 
Can  bring  us  the  balm  and  the  healing 
And  the  peace  of  thy  comforting  word 
And  the  peace  of  thy  comforting  word 
And  the  peace  of  thy  comforting  word 
Can  bring  us  the  balm  and  the  healing 
And  the  peace  of  thy  comforting  word! 

O  Mother — all  goodness   combining — 
Our  compass  and  chart  thou  shalt  be 
And  a  star  in  the  firmament  shining 
To  guide  us  o'er  life's  stormy  sea. 
While  the  diadem  grandly  reposes 
On  the  head  that  is  snowy  and  hoar 
May  the  season  of  lilies  and  roses 
Abide  in  the  heart  evermore 
Abide  in  the  heart  evermore 
Abide  in  the  heart  evermore 
May  the  season  of  lilies  and  roses 
Abide  in  the  heart  evermore ! 

April  24,   1914. 

253 


Dedication 

of   Author's   first  book  of    Poems 

I   dedicate  this   book  of  mine 
To  one  like  a  snow-covered   pine 

Crowned  with  light; 
Yet  with  heart  of  Spring  below 
Eighty  years  of  drifted  snow 

Of  ermine  white. 

My  Mother,  to  whose  life  doth  cling 
All  the  gentleness  of   Spring 

In   its   prime; 
And  the  richness  manifold 
Of  the  hoard  of  harvest  gold 

In   Summertime  1 

All  the  flowers  in  between 
Spring  and  Autumn's  russet  sheen 

Are  a  part 
Of   her  life,  and  still  abide — 
By  the  Winter   glorified — 

In   her  heart! 

Eighty  years  of   life  have   set 
Gems  within  her  coronet 

Of  whitened   hair; 
Rich  beyond  the  tinseled  things 
That  the  crowned  consorts  of  kings 

Proudly    wear! 

All  there  is  within   this  book 

Of  worth  or  strength  or  beauty  took 

All   its   grace 
From  the  imprint  of  her  mind, 
Genteel  nature  and  refined, 

Kindly   face! 

254 


'*  De  Senectute  "' 

"  Age  is  opportunity  no  less 
Than  youth,  though  in  another  dress." 

— Longfellow. 

Oh,  how  venerable  is  old  age 

When  a  seer  and  saint  and  sage 
And  a   prophet  and  philosopher  are  blended  into  one, 

Blessed  with  moral  vision  keen 

And  an  abiding  faith  serene 
And  with  an  inward  consciousness  of   duty  fully  done! 

And  yet  ere  set  of  sun  he  may 

Do  more  than  since  the  break  of  day, 

For  life  is  gauged  by  lofty  thought  and  not  the  measured 
year, 
And  oft  a  day  of  age  in  truth 
Is   better  than  a  year  of  youth 

As  Nestor's  wisdom  counted  more  than  Ajax'  heavy  spear! 

The  grandest  men  on  history's  page 
Have  mostly  worn  the  wreath  of  age 

And  the  evening  twilight  of  their  lives  has  been  the  best ; 
Then  the  strains  of  David's  lyre 
Flowed  like  gold  refined  by  fire 

From  out  a  glowing  bosom  beneath  a  snowy  crest! 

Few  gems  of   higher,  richer  truth 

Have  been  the  treasure-trove  of  youth, 
But  the  great  discoverers  were  men  of  hoary  head, 

And  the  immortal  songs  were  born 

Not  in  the  realm  of  rosy  morn 
But  down  among  the  sunset  hills  when  Hesperus  was  red! 

255 


Chaucer,   the   herald   of   the   long 

And  noble  line  of  English   song 
Gave  us  the  "  Canterbury  Tales  "  in  measures  quaint  and 
old 

After  the   heat  of  noon   had  ceased, 

When  shadows  lengthened  towards  the  East 
And  he  was  on  the  Western  slope  amid  the  Autumn  gold! 

The  "  (Edipus  "  of  Sophocles 
And  the   prize  verse  of   Simonides 
Were  written   more   than  eighty  years  after  the  morning 
lark, 
And  Theophrastus'  virile  pen 
Produced  the  "  Characters  of   Men  " 
When   he   had   lived  a   dozen  years  beyond   the   fourscore 
mark ! 

Milton   and  Homer  blind  and  old 
Poured  their  mighty  floods  of  gold 

In  all  the  lofty  major  chords  of  melody  sublime 
While  they  stood  like  ripened  grain 
Upon  the  whitened  harvest  plain 

Within  the  bending  sickle  of  hoary-headed  Time! 

At  Weimar   in   his  loved   retreat 

Goethe    gave    us   "  Faust "    complete 
After  his  hour-glass  had  run  full  eighty  years  of  sand; 

And  oft  a   sunset  glory  dwells 

Within  the  vale  of  vesper  bells 
As  if   in   forecast  of  the   splendors  of  the   Better  Land! 

November   25,    1909. 


256 


The  Angel  Israfel 

"And  the  angel  Israfel  whose  heart  strings  are  a  lute 
and  who  has  the  sweetest  voice  of  all  God's  creatures." 
— Koran. 

I  have  read  in  the  Koran  a  story, 
A  legend  both  honored  and  hoary 
That  in  Paradise  haloed  with  glory 

Lives  an  angel  with  wonderful  powers, 
And  he  holds  all  his  listeners  mute 
For  his  heart  strings,  they  say,  are  a  lute 
And  his  voice  is  a  musical  flute 

And  his  songs  are  all  blossoming  flowers. 

And  Paradise  ever  is  ringing 

With  the  strains  of  his  wonderful  singing 

And  to  each  song  a  message  is  clinging — 

A  message  of  manifold  meaning, 
Proclaiming  as  only  he  could, 
One  burden   not  well  understood, 
That  Allah,  great  Allah,  is  good 

Surpassing  all  fanciful  dreaming. 

And  the  stars  in  their  courses  all  listened, 
As  they  glittered  and  glinted  and  glistened, 
To  this  angel  tradition  has  christened 

The  sweetest  voiced  singer  in  heaven, 
And  they  flashed  his  notes  down  from  on  high, 
And  they  wrote  out  his  songs  on  the  sky, 
And  the  dark  souls  of  mortals  thereby 

Were  leavened  with  heavenly  leaven. 

I  know  it  is  just  a  tradition, 

A  sweet  and  sublime   superstition, 

Yet  worthy  of  much  repetition 

Because  of  its  potent  suggestions. 
For  the  legend,  I  think,  is  a  test 
Of  the  highest  and  truest  and  best 
That  man  has  found  in  his  quest 

For  the  answers  to  answerless  questions. 

1900. 

257 


The  Dead  Year 

Another   surge — a   rolling  year — 

Has  broken  on  the  shore  of  Time, 

That  sea  upon  whose  wastes  appear 
Ages   like   argosies   sublime! 

I  stood  and  watched  the  billow  roll 
Its  dripping  wreckage  on  the  sand, 

Mute  relics  of  the  tragic  toll 

Paid   into   Time's   all-grasping   hand! 

Old  worn-out  derelicts  and  wrecks, 

And  splintered  masts  and  broken  spars 

Swept  off  in  tempests  from  the  decks 
Lay   strewn   along  the   sandy   bars! 

The  lordly   merchantman,   the   fleet 

Of  dreadnaughts  and  the  men-of-war 

By  stress  of  Time  lay  in  complete 
And   common    ruin   on   the   shore! 

Bright   argosies  that   with   acclaim 

Sailed  forth  with  officers  and  crew 

And  on  their  maiden   voyage  became 
The  victims  of  the  treacherous  blue, 

And  fleet  feluccas  light  and  gay 

As  sea-gulls  skimming  o'er  the  deep 

And    glory-shorn    proud    galleys,    lay 
Within  Time's  all-embracing  sweep! 

The  small  were  even  as  the  great 

For  Time  had  chastened  all  of  pride 

And   in   one   equal,   low   estate 

They  lay  along  the  Ocean  side ! 

258 


0  Time  upon  thy  boundless  sea 

Cycles  and  centuries  ebb  and  flow 
And  all  thereon  must  bow  to  thee, 

Salute   and   dip   their   pennants  low; 

But  all  was   not  of  stranded  barks 
Upon  the  laden  billows   borne, 

Nor  wrecks  that  bore  the  fatal  marks 
Of   Ocean's   fury,   tempest-torn, 

For  goodly  vessels  not  of  those 

Among  the  breakers  on  the  shore 

Found  in   fair  havens   safe   repose 

Beyond  the  wrathful  Ocean's  roar. 

With  sails  and  streamers  reefed  and  furled 
Calmly    and    tranquilly   they   cease 

Their  long  cruise  of   the  cruel  world 
And  rest  serene  in  perfect  peace. 

They  held  their  courses  to  the  Pole — 
The  fixed  and  constant  Cynosure — 

Through  perils  both  of  deep  and  shoal 
And  tempting  sirens'  subtle  lure! 

Oh,   with    what    glory    they   appear 

That  rode  with  honor  through  the  strife, 

Now  crowned  and  safely-havened  here 
After  the  buffetings  of  life ! 

1  saw   approaching    many    sails, 

Some  near  and  others  yet  afar, 
Some  wrestling  with  mid-ocean  gales 
And   some   within   the  outer   bar! 

Some   riding  lightly  as  in   sport, 

Some  freighted  to  the  rails  with  grief, 

All   destined   for  the   selfsame   port 
Or  as  the  prey  of  rock  and  reef! 

259 


Voyage  of  "  The  Sunbeam  " 

Afar  upon  the  sapphire  blue 

Off  towards  the  Islands  of  the  West 
I  saw  among  a  chosen  few 

One  ship  more  goodly  than  the  rest. 

With  a  bright  splendor  all  her  own 
E'en  from  moon-raker  to  the  keel 

On  all  her  ways  a  glory  shone 

And  grace  and  beauty  set  their  seal. 

I  viewed  her  as  she  went  and  came 
Intently  with  hand-shaded  brow 

And  read  that  queenly  vessel's  name 

"The  Sunbeam"  blazoned  on  the  prow. 

Full  busy  both  in  storm  and  calm, 

With  blessings   beyond  human  ken 

She  carried  loads  of  healing  balm 
To  all  the  stricken  isles  of  men. 

Kind  words  and  smiles  and  hopeful  cheers 
(The  Sunbeam's  signal  code  are  these) 

She  sent  across  the  waste  of  years 
To  all  upon  Time's  troubled  seas. 

And  she.  was  blessed  by  everyone 

And  hailed  with  such  joy  and  delight 

As  sailors   greet  the  rising  sun 

After  a  dark,  tempestuous  night. 

The  queen  of  all  the  boundless  sea 

With  treasure  islands  for  her  prize 

Long  may  The  Sunbeam's  voyage  be 
Beneath  serene  and  cloudless  skies. 

260 


1911. 


And  when  she  sets  her  homeward  sails 
In  distant  after  years  afar 

May  pilot  wise  and  favoring  gales 
Bring  her  within  the  harbor  bar! 


Straying  Thoughts 

This   is  my  day  to  sit  and  muse, 

Or  wander  through  the  misty  maze 

Where  Fancy,  led  by  Chance,  pursues 
Her  devious,  uncharted  ways. 

I  sweep  the  vista  of  the  past 

And  read  it  like  an  open  scroll, 

I  drop  my  plummet  in  the  vast 

Deep,   unknown   oceans  of  the   soul. 

I  range  the  fields  of  bygone  days 
Amid  the  roses  and  the  rue 

Recalling   half-forgotten   lays, 

Comparing  old  friends  with  the  new. 

I  kneel  by  Memory's  deep  spring 
That  bubbles  joyously  and  free 

And  drink  refreshing  draughts  that  bring 
New  life  and  hope  and  strength  to  me. 

I  bare  my  forehead  to  the  breeze 
And  listen  to  its  magic  lore, 

The  tales  it  brings  across  the  seas 
And  from  the  far-off  alien  shore. 

I  hear  the  mighty  sea-winds  blow 
And  the  music  wild  and  grand 

When  Neptune's  crested  legions  throw 
Their  silver  helmets  on  the  sand. 

261 


I  breathe  the  fragrant  aftermath 
Of  fields  I  sowed  in  other  days, 

And  I  retrace  the  backward  path 

Through  all  its  thorny-primrose  ways. 

I  pause  by  many  grass-grown  mounds 
And  closely  scan  the  chiseled  stone, 

And  the  names  that  have  familiar  sounds 
I  utter  in  an  undertone. 

The  birds  sing  in  the  boughs  that  bend 
Like  cypress  o'er  the  somber  tomb 

And  their  sweet  songs  with  sadness  blend 
Like    mass-bells    in    cathedral    gloom. 


The  Inward  Monitor 

I  am  dubious  of  the  days  to  be ; 

My  foes  are  strong  and  cruel  men ; 
There  shines  no  light,  no  star  for  me 

Within  the  sweep  of  Reason's  ken. 

To  eyes  of  sense  the  way  is  dark, 

While   conscience   shines   a   star   serene, 

And  I'm  a  tempest-driven  barque 
Upon  the  unseen  and  the  seen. 

My  foes  are  many,  bold  and  stout 
And  crafty  as  the  imps  of  hell; 

They  press  and  compass  me  about 
Like  Ocean  'round  a  diving  bell. 

But  in  despite  of  seeming  things 
I  fear  not  but  that  I  shall  win  ; 

For  there's  a  harp  with  truer  strings 
There  is  a  clearer  voice  within. 

A  clearer  truth  it  truer  tells 

With  soft,  but  more  persuasive  note 
Than  told  by  tongues  of  iron  bells 

Or  shouted  from  a  stentor  throat. 

262 


For  conscience  has   a   simple  code 

To  lead  us  through  the  dark  and  day, 

And  is  upon  life's  winding  road 

The  only  guide  that  knows  the  way. 

And  where  it  sends  me  I  will  go 
And  what  it  tells  me  I  will  do; 

I  see  nor  understand,  yet  know 
That  inward  monitor  is  true. 

And  all  I  ask  the  kindly  fates 

Is  light  to  see  my  foeman's  face 

And  press  the  battle  to  the  gates 

With  streaming  blade  and  bloody  mace. 

January  1,  1907. 

"  Bonum  et  Benignatas  M 

The  sweetest  face  on  all  the  earth, 
Surpassing  Beauty,  Peace  and  Mirth, 

Is  Mercy  by  the  bed  of  pain  giving  her  beloved  sleep, 
Allaying  all  the  cruel  pangs 
That  sting  and  tear  like  serpent  fangs, 

With  pleasant  dreams  like  peaceful  rivers  crooning  to  the 
deep ! 

The  kindly  hand  and  word  and  eye, 

These  do  the  deeds  that  never  die, 
As  Britain's  Filomena  in  the  far  Levant  revealed, 

She  who  by  her  deeds  sublime 

Redeemed  the  stain  of  England's  crime 
When  useless  war  incarnadined  Crimea's  fatal  field! 

Oh,  that  the  wide  world  understood 
"  'Tis  only  noble  to  be  good," 
That  kind  hearts  count  for  more  than  crowns  or  coronets 
of  gold, 
That  in  the  balance  of  true  worth 
One  kindly  deed  outweighs  the  earth 
And  a  tear  of  joy  all  Neptune's  Sea  outweighs  a  hundred 
fold! 

263 


(Decoration  Day  Song) 

The  Boys  in  the  Blue 

(Tune:  "The  Red,  White  and  Blue") 

O  soldiers   who   saved  our   nation, 

And  sailors   who  fought  on  the  sea, 

Today  in  rapt  admiration 

A  world  weaves  its  garlands  for  thee. 

Today,    with    words   warm    and    tender 

We  speak  of  the  host,  brave  and  true — 

Our  glorious   Republic's   defender 

That  followed  the  red,  white  and  blue, 
That  followed  the  red,  white  and  blue, 
That  followed  the  red,  white  and  blue, 

Our  glorious   Republic's   defender 

That  followed  the  red,  white  and  blue! 

When  the  guns   of  rebellion  were  roaring 
And  treason  was   piping   her   pipes, 

These   millions   of   heroes  were   warring 
In  defense  of  the  stars  and  the  stripes. 

Our  tears  and  our  cheers  are  combining 
As  their  trials  and  triumphs  we  view. 

And  the  stars  of  their  glory  are  shining 

In  the  folds  of  the  red,  white  and  blue, 
In  the  folds  of  the  red,  white  and  blue, 
In  the  folds  of  the  red,  white  and  blue; 

And  the  stars  of  their  glory  are  shining 

In  the  folds  of  the  red,  white  and  blue! 

Today  we  remember   the  sleeping — 

The   Grand  Army  long  gone   before; 

Today   fair   Columbia  is   weeping 

For  brave  sons  who  died  in  the  war! 

Their  graves  let  us  cover  with  flowers — 
The  fairest  that  earth  ever  grew! 

264 


With   banners — these   heroes   of  ours — 
Who  died  for  the  red,  white  and  blue, 
Who  died  for  the  red,  white  and  blue, 
Who  died  for  the  red,  white  and  blue; 

With   banners — these   heroes   of   ours — 

Who  died  for  the  red,  white  and  blue! 

'Mid  flowers   and  banners  and  glory, 

With  words  that  are  welcome  and  warm 

Like  the  rainbow,  our  flag  tells  the  story: 
"  I'm  a  child  of  the  sun  and  the  storm." 

Columbia   shall  always  endeavor 
To  honor  the  fast-fleeting  few ; 

The  old   soldiers   and   sailors   forever! 
Three  cheers  for  the  boys  in  the  blue, 
Three  cheers  for  the  boys  in  the  blue, 
Three  cheers   for  the  boys  in  the  blue  ; 

The  old  soldiers  and  sailors  forever, 

Three  cheers  for  the  boys  in  the  blue  ! 


Song 

Dewey,  the  Pride  of  the  Navy 
(Tune:    "Columbia,  the  Gem  of  the  Ocean") 

O  Dewey,  the  pride  of  the  nation, 
The  pride  of  the  navy  and  sea 

With  proud  and  profound  admiration 
This  people  is  honoring  thee! 

With  streamers  and  flags  wild  and  wavy 
And  with   triumphal  arches  for  you 

We  hail  you  the  Pride  of  the  Navy, 
The  greatest  the  world  ever  knew, 
The  greatest  the  world  ever  knew 
The  greatest  the  world  ever  knew 

We  hail  you  the  Pride  of  the  Navy, 
The  greatest  the  world  ever  knew. 

265 


On  the  page  of  our  triumphant  story 

Where  Columbia's  brave  Admirals  are 

With    our   navy   enhaloed    with    glory 
Shines    many    a    radiant    star. 

But  the  gem  of  the  whole  constellation 
That  gleams  so  resplendently  bright 

Is  the  star  of  the  pride  of  the  nation 
Unsurpassed   in  its   luster   and   light, 
Unsurpassed  in  its  luster  and  light 
Unsurpassed  in   its   luster  and  light 

Is  the  star  of  the  pride  of  the  nation 
Unsurpassed   in   its   luster   and   light. 

So  long  as  the  world  keeps  in  motion 

And  the  red,  white  and  blue  waves  in  air 

With  our  fleet  proudly  ploughing  the  ocean 
Will  the  stars  of  his  glory   be  there. 

'Till  we  meet  with  grim  Death,  the  Destroyer, 
We   will  honor  Columbia's   son 

And  with  cheers  for  this  old  ocean-warrior 
We  will  keep  what  his  valor  has  won, 
We  will  keep  what  his  valor  has  won 
We  will  keep  what  his  valor  has  won 

And  with  cheers  for  this  old  ocean-warrior 
We  will  keep  what  his  valor  has  won. 

October  10,  1899. 

(For  Dewey  Day  in   Chicago) 


266 


Flag  of  the  Eight  and  Forty  Stars 

Flag  of  the   eight  and  forty  stars 

Aflame  in  a  field  of  blue ; 
Flag  of  the  white  and  crimson  bars 

Entrancing  fair  to  view  ! 

Flag  of  the  eight  and  forty  stars 
Of  war  and  whirlwind  born 

And  kept  by  death  and  battle-scars 
Unsullied   and    untorn  ! 

On  thy  white  field  the  crimson  bars 

Mean  rivers  running  red 
That  the  flag  of  eight  and  forty  stars 

Might   wave   above   my   head! 

When   War's   portentous  pall  hangs  low 
Dark  as   the   frown  of   Mars 

Fiercely  shall  gleam  amid  the  foe 
Thine  eight  and  forty  stars! 

In  Freedom's  name  may  every  breeze 
Fling  out  thy  blood-red  bars 

And  proudly  flaunt  o'er  land  and  seas 
Thine   eight   and   forty   stars! 


267 


Song    for 

Memorial  Day 

(Tune  :   "  America  ") 

Old  soldiers,  over  thee 
The  flag  is  floating  free 

And  full  of  stars ; 
Proud  of  the  noble  band 
That   gave   it   to  our   land, 
Preserved  by  valor's   hand 

And  battle  scars ! 

In   smoke  and   flame   it   flew 
Above  the  hosts  of  blue 

On  fields  of  war  ; 
Through  treason's  iron  rain 
You   bore   it   without  stain 
Upon  the  crimson  plain 

In  days  of  yore ! 

Your  heads  are  whitened  now 
And  time  upon  your  brow 

Has    left    its    trace, 
And   slower  now  your   tread 
Than  when  the  charge  was  led 
And   Freedom's   foemen   fled 

Before  your  face! 

Yet  in  your  matchless  eye 
As  the  thinned  lines  go  by 

We  see  the  gleam 
And  spirit  as  of  old 
When  clouds  of  conflict  rolled 
To  keep   the  starry  fold 

Without   a   seam! 

268 


In  gratitude  and  love 
Pure  as  the  stars  above 

This  day  we  keep 
For  men  the  world  reveres, 
For  those  who  live,  our  cheers. 
And  a  great  nation's  tears 

For   those  who  sleep! 


The  Dead  Suffragette 

(I.    M.    B.) 

A  fervent  flame  has  flickered  out; 
A   phcenix-bird    has   died 

As   the   Sun   dies 

Only  to  rise 
With  the  morn  intensified! 

O  ardent  archer  from  whose  bow 
A  shaft  shot  through  the  sky 
Winged   with   weal 
And  tipped  with  zeal, 
As   glowing   meteors   fly! 

O  swift  and  self-consuming  star 
Leaving  a  trail  of  light 
Along  whose   way 
Her  sisters  may 
Find  freedom  from  the  night! 

The  ashes  of  the  star  shall  fall 
On  fertile  fields  below 
And  o'er  the  land 
Rich   harvests    stand 
Where  freeborn  gleaners  go! 


Nov.  28,  1916. 

269 


Unforgotten 

It  pleases  me  once  more  to  send 
To  my  superb  and  noble  friend 

Of  vain  and  vanished  days 
A  line  to  speak  my  high  esteem 
For  her  who  was  the  pleasant  theme 

Of  many  roundelays  ! 

Xot  all  the  changes  Time  has  wrought 
Or  good  and  ill  the  years  have  brought 

Can  dim  that  kindly  light, 
As  mist  and  fog  and  driving  cloud 
Ofttimes    obscure    and    enshroud 

The  stars  in  Nature's  night ! 

But  this  star  point  clear  and  fine 
Shall  in    flawless   luster   shine 

In  Memory's  bright  sky 
Until  the  starry  heavens  roll 
Together  like  a  finished  scroll 

And  Man  and  Mind  shall  die! 

She  shall  be  as  she  hath  been 
The  theme  of  my  thought  and  pen 

And   my  grateful  song 
While   the   silent   seasons   glide 
And  the  years  of  life  abide, 

Be  they  short  or  long! 

Remembered  as  a  song  whose  tune 
Charmed  the  days  of  far-off  June 

She  is  now  to  me ; 
A  lovely  ship  of  silken  sails 
Torn   away  by  adverse  gales 

And  lost  upon  the  sea ! 


270 


To  a  Friend 

Upon  the  day  that  she  was  born 
There  bloomed  a  rose  without  a  thorn 

That  grew  more  fair  with  Time ; 
A  rare,  rich  blossom,  and  possessed 
Of  flow'ry  splendor  unexpressed 

In  either  prose  or  rhyme! 

The  laughter  of  the  meadow  brook 
And  Summer's  sunny  smiles  she  took 

And  stored  up  in  her  heart 
From  whence  they  overflow  and  rise 
And  to  her  countenance  and  eyes 

Their  kindly  charms  impart! 

In  Flora's  fragrant  flower  land 
Where   all  her   stately   daughters  stand 

In  robes  of  every  hue — 
Some  in  snowy   samite's   sheen, 
Some  in   vestments  of   bright  green, 

And   some   in   lovely   blue, 

The  "  beauteous   sisterhood "  has   set 
Upon  the  rose  the  coronet 

Only  a  queen  may  wear ; 
E'en  as  this  Rose  of  whom  we  sing 
Bears  the  royal  signet  ring 

And  sway  serene  and  fair! 

O  genteel  friend  with  kindly  face, 
With  sense  and  dignity  and  grace 

And   heart   of   temper   true; 
O  noble  Rose,  sweet  and  benign, 
May  the  great  Sun  ever  shine 

Benignantly  on  you! 

September  7,  1921. 

271 


A  Vacation  Wish 

(To  Two  Friends) 

Sweet  seraphs  seated  on  the  sands 

That  rim  the  sapphire  sea, 

In  well-earned  rest  for  tired  hands 

Unloosed  from  labor's  iron  bands ; 

Take  this  salute  from  me ! 

Let  earth  be  lavish  of  her  best 
Of   balm  and  kindly  peace, 
And  may  you  be  so  richly  blest 
With  sweet,  rejuvenating  rest 

That  all  your  cares  shall  cease! 

May  rosy  Dawn  delight  and  please 
As   Morning  shall  unfold, 

And  all  the  fields  of  rich  Ceres 

Reflected  in  the  sunset  seas 

Transmute  the  clouds  to   gold ! 

Then  may  the  mellow  moonlight  make 

Her  soft  and  charming  scenes, 
Fit  for  the  Lady  of  the  Lake, 
While  all  the  sentry  stars,  awake, 
Watch  o'er  the  sleeping  queens ! 

Soon  may  you  come  again  and  bring 

Anew  your  winsome  ways, 
As  welcome  as  when  in  the  Spring 
The  birds  return  again  and  sing 
Their  jocund  roundelays! 


272 


Memories  That  Make  Us  Strong 

As  bud  and  blossom  and  ripe  fruit 
And  years  on  years  in  swift  pursuit 

Each  other  press, 
So  at  this  time  of  thanks  and  praise 
Come  crowding  thoughts  of  other  days 

To   cheer   and   bless ! 

Oft  in  such  hours  as  this  I  chance 
To  take  a  retrospective  glance 

Adown  the  years, 
The  sunny  years  by  shadows  crossed 
And   disillusionments  that  cost 

Us    many   tears ! 

I  see  again  before  me  spread 

The  winding  ways  where  folly  led 

Through  bitter-sweet : — 
The  blasted  hope,  the  shattered  dream, 
And  the  victory  that  did  redeem 

All  sore  defeat ! 

I've  thought  of  you,  brave  friend  and  good 
Full  many  times  as  I  have  stood 

With   flag  unfurled, 
Or  battled  in  the  truceless  fight 
Wherein  the  darkness  strives  with  light 

To  win  the  world! 

And  until  now  I've  sung  your  praise, 
And  shall  through  all  the  coming  days 

In   honest  rhyme, 
With  glad  heart  brimming  o'er  with  thanks 
As  Jordan  overflows  its  banks 

In  harvest  time! 

273 


For  in  the  recent  days  I  bore 

A  sword  and  buckler   in  that  war 

You    sent   me   to, 
And  foremost  in  the  battle's  van 
Did  all  the  puny  arm  of  man 

Alone  can  do ! 

Whene'er  I  face  the  hosts  of  Drink, 
To  which  all  other   evils   link 

And   join    their    plans, 
The  echo  of  your  words   produce 
A  fervor  like  the  heart  of  Bruce 

Among  the  clans ! 

Ofttimes  with  frowning  hordes  around 
Have  we  been  beaten  to  the  ground 

But   not  to   stay 
Like  those  who  "  mute   inglorious  "  lie, 
For  we're  the  kind  that  never  die 

Though  turned  to  clay  1 

The  armies  of  the  Fiend  are  vast 
And  cruel  as  the   icy  blast 

That  sweeps  the  North 
And  all  things  wither  like  the  leaf 
Before  the  wild  raids  of  the  Chief 

That  leads   them   forth! 

But  surely  shall  the  time  arrive 
When  you  and  I  are  both  alive 

And    he    is    dead, 
If  we  are  blessed  with  sense  and  grace 
And  mortal  strength  to  swing  a  mace 

And    cleave    his    head! 

Oh,  doubt  thou  not  that  he  shall  fall 
Cut  down  in  ghastly  ruin,  all 

As  on  that  day 
Back  in  his  temple  in  Ashdod 
Prostrate  before  the  ark  of  God 

Old  Dagon  lay! 

274 


Then  when  the  shouting  victors  march 
Beneath  the  great  triumphal  arch 

In    grand    review, 
The  friend  whose  voice  was  worth  a  host 
Shall  wear  the  laurel  with  the  most 

Stalwart   and   true! 

Strong  unto   life,   oh,   let   us    cling 
Like  Winter's  withered  leaf  in  Spring 

Still  on   the   tree, 
That  firm,  tenacious  to  the  last 
Defies  the  bufTets  of  the  blast 

To   shake   him  free ! 

Until  your  life's   long  day  is  done 
May  Laughter's   rippling  river  run 

Full  to  the  brink ; 
And  better  than  unmeasured  wealth 
Oh,  may  you  be  of  buoyant  health 

The   very  pink! 

And  meanwhile  Heaven  bless  your  store 
And  in  your  lap  kind  Fortune  pour 

All  that  she   hath  ; 
And  brightly  bloom  the  beauteous  rose 
And  balmy  be  the  breeze  that  blows 

Around   your   path! 

My  parting  prayer  is  that  henceforth 
May  all  the  vigor  of  the  North 

Be  in  your  heart 
Wherein  shall  Hope  and  Peace  preside 
And  Joy  and  sweet  Content  abide 

And  not  depart! 


275 


A  Good  Friend 

(I.  B.) 

Fair,    serene, 
More  than  queen, 

Young  and   wise, 
Blessed   with   two 
Clear   and   blue 

Kindly    eyes ! 

Full   of    mirth 
As    the   earth 

Is    of    Sun 
When   high    noon 
And    mid-June 

Meet  as  one ! 

Jocund  glee 
Wild  and  free 

As  the  breeze 
Swaying    nests 
In   the  crests 

Of  the  trees! 

She   has   wit, 
(Lots  of  it) 

Quick  and  keen  ; 
Like   a  bright 
Flash   of  light 

Is  its  sheen ! 

Sweet   of   voice 
Rich   and   choice 

Full  and  strong, 
Holding  all 
In  the  thrall 

Of  her  song! 

276 


Winsome  face, 
Inward  grace, 

Sober  sense, 
And  a  style 
Without   guile 

Or  pretence ! 

Heart  of  gold, 
Spirit  bold, 

Faith  of  flame, 
Zeal  of  knight 
On   the  bright 

Fields   of  fame ! 

Blessings   rest 
On  your  crest 

Queenly  maid ; 
Diadems 
With  bright  gems 

All   inlaid! 

As  you  go 

To  and  fro, 

Sun  and  dew 
Buds  and  birds 
And  kind  words 

Go  with   you ! 

Now    from    me 
Take    this    wee 

Bright   bouquet 
As  a  true 
Wish    for   you 

Ev'ry   day ! 


277 


1922. 


Good-Bye  to  a  Friend 

With  real  regret  we  say,  Good-Bye, 
0  pleasant  face  and  merry   eye 

And   voice   of    rippling  song, 
With  that   sad  sinking  of  the  heart 
We  have  when  Summer's  birds  depart 

And  swiftly  southward  throng! 

And  as  the  Sun's  receding  rays 
Bring   us   the   melancholy   days 

Of  buds  and  birds  forlorn, 
Your  going  hence  has  brought  the  drear 
Days  of  the  yellow  leaf  and  sear 

And  meadows  brown  and  shorn! 

But   in   this    hour   disconsolate 

By  faith  and  hope  upheld,  we  wait, 

Well  knowing  as  we  do 
That  though  the  Winter  linger  long 
The  Spring  will  come  on  wings  of  song, 

With   violets   and— you  ! 

Oh,  sweet  and  fair  and  full  of  cheer 
And  pleasant  was  your  presence  here 

In   now  departed  times, 
And  may  the  years  before  you  be 
But  days  and  nights  of  melody 

As   sweet   as   silver   chimes! 


278 


To  a  College  Friend 

0  wise,  winsome  friend  of  mine 
Whose  name  to  many  a  tuneful  line 

Inspired  my  pen 
How  many  stanzas  in  old  days 

1  wrote,  then  cast  into  the  blaze, 

"  I  dinna  ken." 

But  surely  all  together  massed 
Would  make  a  conflagration  vast 

And   fervent   heat; 
And  if  the  embers  now  were  stirred 
They'd  rise  up  like  the  phoenix-bird 

And  warble  sweet. 

I  think  it's  often  well,  you  know, 
Amid  the  surge  and  ebb  and  flow 

Of  worldly  strife 
To  make  a  little  pause,  a  calm, 
A  Selah  passage  in  the  Psalm 

Of  busy   life, 

Just  long  enough  to  drop  a  line 
Or  speak  a  word  or  make  a  sign 

Or  wave  a  hand ; 
It  lifts  us  where  the  white  clouds  float 
And  holds  us  like  a  sustained  note, 

I  think  it's  grand ! 

So  take  this  as  my  kind  salute, 
It's  better  than  remaining  mute 

As  Egypt's  Sphinx. 
If  aught  is  lacking  won't  you  try 
Out  of  your  good  heart  to  supply 

The  missing  links? 

279 


Age  23 


Take    this    from   me 
Sweet  twenty-three 

And   may  you   live   for  aye 

Afl    prim    and    fair 

And  debonairc 
And  winsome  as  tod 

Th  -   that   smile 

( Not  to  beguile) 

Be    bright    a   thousand    years 

And    never    know 

The  overflow 
Or    mist    of    trouble's   tears! 

I    like    your    . 
And    nifty    p 

And  wit  without  offence, 
Y<>ur   youthful    [ 

And    r< 

ircumscribed  bj 

A-  Time  -hall  fly 
Along  on   "  high  " 

May   Joy    -it    at    the    wheel 
And    you    be 

Him   like  a  bride 
With   merry  heart  and  leal! 

O  silver  moon 

Of  jolly   June 
Put   on   your   brightest   sheen 

And   buds   adorn 

The  natal  morn 
Of  a  most  regal  queen  ! 

280 


1921. 


The  Passing  Years 

Dear  old  friend,  the  passing  years 
Of  mirage  hopes  and  phantom  fears 

And  thorn   and  rose  and   rne. 
Though  rough  and  rude,  cannot  efface 
From  out   my   thoughts   the   sunny  place 

Kind  Fate  reserved  for  youl 

To  thank  the  Sun.  how  vain  were  words, 
Or  speech  to  tell  the  huds  and  birds 

The  deht  that   is  their  due. 
And  yet   we  gmw   more   true  and   strong 

Because  ol  them  and  their  sweet  song,- 
As  I   because  of  you  ! 

take  this  as  a  friendly  breeze 
That  watts  across  the  silent  seas 

From   far-off  isles   to  you 
My  earnest   wish  of  former  times 

For  peace  and  gold  and  kindly  dimes 
Which  I  again   renew  ! 

Our   ways   that   parted   long  ago 
May    wide   and   ever   wider   grow 

As   wakes  of  steamships  do. 
Yet   from   the  earth's   remotest   end 
By    Fancy's    radio    I    would    send 

My  message  unto  you  ! 

Far  from  the  snow  that  beats  on  me 
May   you   and   all   your   household  be 

Where  skies   are   clear  and  blue 
And  all  conspires   to  inert 
The   inward   joy   and   outward   peace 

A  thousand  fold  to  youl 


281 


Bird 


s 


I  love  birds 
And   right   words 

Are  too  rare 
To    impart 
What  my  heart 

Would  declare ! 

Chickadees 
And  pewees 

I  adore, 
And  I  love 
The  white  dove 

Even   morel 

The   redstart 
Stirs  my  heart 

With  its  glee, 
And  the  blue 
Bunting's   hue 

Pleases  me! 

The  juncos 

And   the   rose- 
Breasted  beak 

Soft  and  low 

In  the  snow 

Sweetly   speak ! 

Ruby-throat 
And  the  note 

That  he  sings 
By  the  beat 
Of  his   fleet 

Vibrant  wings ! 

282 


And  the  thrush 
In  the  brush 

And  the   wold 
Make  for  me 
Melody 

Manifold ! 


From  a  Wayfarer 

(With  flowers) 

Sweet  Saint  Cecilia  of  our  day, 
The   patroness  of    Music's   art, 
I  send  you  with  this  roundelay 
That  bubbles   from  a   friendly  heart 
And   give   unto   your  tender   care 
That  never  did  a  creature  wrong, 
These  flowers,  thought-surpassing  fair — 
The   silent   notes   of   Nature's   song — 

And  with  them  all  the  healing  dews 
And  balm  upon  their  fragrant  leaves; 
And  may  my  never-sleeping  Muse 
Sit  at  the  loom  where  Fancy  weaves, 
And  in  the  wondrous  warp  and  woof 
Of  the   rich  tapestry   of  Fame 
With   shining  shuttles,   error   proof, 
With  threads  of  gold  weave  in  your  name. 

Oh,  may  a  sweet  smile  be  the  prize 
And  favor  that  these  flowers  find 
Within  your  clear  and  kindly  eyes — 
The  windows  of  triumphant  mind. 
From  a  wayfarer  passing  by 
And  plucking  flowers  'long  the  way 
Receive  these  buds: — and  till  you  die 
May  life  be  sweet  and  fair  as  they! 


283 


In  the  Afterglow 

The  sun  has  set  and  very  splendid 
Have  the  evening  shades  descended 
And  the  dusk  and  darkness  blended 

Leaving  a  bright  afterglow; 
And  I  sit  here  pensive,  musing, 
Not  consenting  or  refusing, 
Passive  to  my  Fancy's  choosing 

And  the  thoughts  that  ebb  and  flow! 

And  the  thoughts  most  oft  recurring, 
Which  my  fancy  seems  preferring, 
Are  the  scenes  both  sweet  and  stirring 

Of  my  Wheaton   College  days, 
And  first  among  them  is  the  single 
Subject  of  this  swinging  jingle, 
The  girl  that  made  my  heart  blood  tingle 

And  inspired   my  roundelays ! 

And  now  to  keep  the  promise  spoken, 
And  the  vow  I  vowed,  unbroken, 
I  send  this  as  a  tender  token 

To  my  unforgotten  friend, 
The  gentlest,  kindest  and  most  clever; 
May  Joy  and  Peace  be  hers,  and  never 
Leave  her  through  the  long  forever 

After  earthly  day  shall  end! 


November  24,  1904. 


284 


1913. 


The  Queen  Flower 

(To  a  friend) 

I  send  my  greetings  and  regards 

And  love  that  time  can  never  cool, 

Sweet  rose  among  the  flints  and  shards, 
White  lily  in  the  stagnant  pool; 

Bright   daisy  blooming  by  the  side 

Of  Life's  hot,  dust-encumbered  way; 

Meek,  kindly  violet,  tender  eyed 
Like  Leah  in  the  ancient  day ! 

The  charm  of  ev'ry  flower  that  grows 
In  garden,  glen  or  sylvan  scene 

Is  incarnate  in  one  fair  rose, 

Of  all  the  blossom  world,  the  queen! 


3.14159 

(On  receipt  of  a  pie) 

Your    glorious    gastronomic    treat 
Frosted  white  and  sugared  sweet 

We   swallowed  at  a   gulp 
Like  a  horde  of  hungry  Huns  ; 
'Twas  great  and  had  ambrosial  buns 

All  beaten  to  a  pulp ! 

Yes,  it  was  rich  and  we  are  sure 
No   pampered   Roman   epicure 

Ever  saw  its  peer; 
Old  Lucullus  and  that  bunch 
Of  connoisseurs  of  wine  and  punch 

Lose  the  pennant  here! 

285 


Just  one  taste  put  all  the  brew 
Of  Bacchus  and  Selinus  too, 

In  the   infant  class, 
And  made  the  palate-tickling  food 
That  gods  or  mortals  ever  chewed 

Seem  like  withered  grass! 

We've  eaten  frogs  and  terrapin 
And   funny  fish   of  every  fin, 

And  oysters,  too,  galore; 
'Possum,    'coon    and    guinea    pig 
And  all  that  climb  or  swim  or  dig 

Or  root  or  dive  or  soar; 

We've  eaten  bride's  and  angel's  cake 
And  things  "  like  mother  used  to  make  ' 

And  huckleberry  pie, 
Jell  and  jam   and   all   the  stuff 
Of    which    we    couldn't   get   enough 

When  we  were  little  fry, 

But  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  all  sweet 
And  toothsome  things  that  mortals  eat 

Your  skillful  hand  has  wrought, 
So  now   we  simply  close  the   book 
And  fold  our  arms  and  cease  to  look — 

For   all  is  found  we   sought ! 


May  23,  1914. 


286 


Hall 


oween 


How  dare  you  sit  and  grin 
And   laugh   and   raise  a  din 

When    without 
All  the  black  cats  hiss  and  howl 
And  the  ghosts  and  goblins  prowl 

All    about. 

There  are  witches  out  there,  too, 
And  they're  after  girls   like  you 

If  you're  bad ; 
So   remember  "  mum's  the  word  " 
Or  you'll  wish,  my  merry  bird, 

That  you  had. 

And  remember  there  are  bats 
Big  as    Merry  Widow   hats 

Flying  'round, 
And  the  spooks  of  all  the  dead 
That  have  risen  from  their  bed 

In  the   ground. 

So  be  careful  as  you  can 
Lest  the  awful  bogy  man 

Catches  you; 
For  if  you  should  fade  away 
It  would  make  my  mortal  day 

Awful   blue! 


287 


Interned 

(To  one  in  hospital) 

0  man  of  Job's  afflicted  tribe 

1  lift  the  crystal  and  imbibe 

A  deep  draught  to  your  health — 
That  boon  to  mortals  many  fold 
More  precious  than  the  joys  of  gold 

And   unrestricted   wealth! 

We   wait   for  your   arrival  here 
Like  lonely  watchers  on  the  pier 

For    home-returning   sails; 
And  may  you  safely  weather  through 
The    tempest-torn   and   hostile   blue 

And  buffets   of  the  gales! 

Cheer  up,  the  storm  will  soon  be  past 
And  on  your  high  top-gallant  mast 

Your  friends   will  place  a  crown 
When  safe  within  the  harbor  bar 
Without  a  broken  boom  or  spar 

You  drop  your  anchor  down! 


July  18,  1913. 


288 


May  21,  1914. 


To  a  Kid  Friend 

(On    his    12th    birthday) 

Just  twelve  years  old 

And   good   as   gold, 
And  clear  and  clean  and  shining 

As   a    big   new   star 

That  we  see  afar 
With  bright  and  silver  lining! 

A  clear-eyed  boy 

Of  mirth  and  joy 
And  sunshine  ever  beaming, 

With  face  and  eyes 

Like   Summer  skies 
With  sun  and  blue  seas  gleaming! 

When  the  day  dies 

May  bright  stars  rise 
To  watch  above  your  slumbers, 

And  dreams,  all  true, 

Abide  with  you 
In  vast,  uncounted  numbers! 

And  from  the  dawn 

Till  day  is  gone 
May  blessings  never-ending 

Above  you  stand 

With  open  hand 
Or  like  a  rainbow  bending! 

My  dear   kid   friend 

Today  I  send 
A  forest  full  of  flowers 

And  wish  for  you 

A  life  of  true 
And  happy,  golden  hours! 


289 


The  "  Lost  Pleiad  M 

(To  a  friend) 

The   stars   that  sweep 
The  heavens,  weep 

Since    you   are    gone, 
And  cloud  and  rain 
Bespeak   their   pain 

From  dusk  to  dawn. 

The  Harp  is  still, 
The  Eagle  shrill 

Is  silent  now ; 
The    Northern    Crown 
Has    fallen    down 

From  Heaven's  brow. 

Both    of   the    Bears 
Lurk  in  their  lairs 

The  whole  night  long 
With   folded  wings 
The   sweet  Swan   sings 

Her  dying  song. 

No  arrows  go 
From  Archer's  bow 

To  Scorpion's  hide, 
The  Lions  wild, 
Now  meek  and  mild, 

In  peace   abide. 

The    Pleiades 
And  Antares 

And  bright  Altair 
Are  hid  from  view 
Within  the  blue 

In   deep   despair. 

290 


The  Dogs  and  Twins, 
The  Fish   with   fins, 

The  ebon  Crow, 
And  Pegasus 
(And  all  of  us) 

Are  deep  in  woe. 

The  Sickle  keen 
Has  lost  its  sheen 

Of  steely  blue, 
And  all  seems  dead 
E'er  since  we  said 

Good-bye   to   you. 

Oh,  when   shall  we 
Together  see 

In  glory  spread 
The  stars  bedight 
In  robes  of  white 

And  blue  and  red? 

Tell  us  how  soon 
The  pallid  Moon 

Shall  see  you   here, 
For  joy  and  mirth 
Come  not  to  earth 

Till  you  appear. 

The  stars  that  gem 
The  diadem 

Of  queenly  Night 
Shall  brighter  burn 
When  you  return 

To  our  sight ! 


291 


Sympathy  and  Solace 

(To  an  old  friend) 

Beyond  the  western  sunset  land 
An   ocean   with   its  golden   sand 

Around  it  rolled 
Lies  like  a  laver  of  vast  worth 
Set  in  the  temple  of  the  earth 

And  rimmed  with  gold. 

The  molten  sea  that  Hiram  cast 
For   Solomon    in    centuries    past 

And   gone   afar 
Was  but  a  tiny  grain  of  sand 
To    this    constructed    by   the   hand 

That   made   each   star. 

And    close   beside   its   gilded   brim 
The  queen  of  all  the  seraphim 

Surpassing  fair 
And  with  a  grace,  defying  art, 
Born  of  a  true  and   kindly   heart 

Abideth   there. 

Amid  the  incense  and  perfume 
And  beauty  of  the  lavish  bloom 

Of   Nature's   smile 
She   dwells  beside   the   crystal  sea 
An  open-hearted  soul  and  free 

From   worldly   guile, 

A  creature  that  deserves  no  fate 
Except   that   ultra   high    estate 

The  angels  hold, 
And  yet  she  suffers  all  the  wrong 
That  comes  unto  the  common  throng 

Of  mortal  mould, 

292 


For  on  her  sunny  fields  the  cloud 
And  gloomy  pall  and  somber  shroud 

And   shadows    fall, 
And  sorrows  speechless,  but  for  tears, 
That  the  relentless  sweep  of  years 

Brings  to  us  all. 

The  bruises  of  the  unkind  word 
The  sickened  heart  by  hope  deferred 

Fall  to  her  share, 
And  "  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  " 
The  vain  regrets   of  wasted  youth 

That  all  must  bear. 

So  oft  her  head  beneath  its  weight 
The  iron  crown  of  ruthless  fate 

Doth   lowly  bow, 
And  on  her  brave  heart  crushing  falls 
The  stroke  that  staggers  and  appalls 

As  it  does  now. 

But  howsoever  hard  it  seems 

When  cherished  hopes  and  fondest  dreams 

Like  bubbles  burst, 
Let  us  have  faith  that  all  things  tend 
Together  towards  the  better  end 

And  not  the  worst. 

And  may  it  not,  perchance,  be  best 
That  we   endure  the   fiery  test 

And  bear  the  cross 
That  we  may  come  forth  purer  souled 
As  from  its  crucibles  the  gold 

Devoid  of  dross. 

As  from  the  height  in  years  gone  by 
The  great  Lawgiver  turned  his  eye 

Towards   Canaan   fair 
Unto  a  land  he  should  not  press, 
(But  dying  in  the  wilderness 

Be    buried    there), 

293 


So  oft  I  dearly  love  to  stand 
And  gaze   into  that   far-off  land 

With   Fancy's   eyes 
And   throw   a   thousand   sweet   bouquets 
To  my  dear  friend  of  other  days 

I   highly   prize. 

That   queen    of   flowers,   the    charming   rose, 
The  lily  white  as  drifted  snows 

The   violets   small, 
Hearts-ease  and  pinks  of  every  hue, 
And  sweet  forget-me-nots  of  blue 

Around    them   all, 

And  every  flower  with  all  its  charms 

That  Summer.   Spring,   and    Autumn's    arms 

Did   e'er   entwine 
I  gather   up   from   far  and   near 
And  toss  them  to  that  good  and  dear 

Old  friend  of  mine. 

Across  the  deserts  and  the  high 

White  mountain   tops  that  touch  the  sky 

With   snowy   crown 
Bear  them  O  kindly  winds  and   sWcct 
Safely  and  gently  to  her  feci 

And  lay   them   down. 

All   these  and   every   cheering   word 
That  Hope  and  Promise  ever  heard 

I  send  along 
To  brace  and  brighten  and  sustain  ; 
As  drooping  flowers  are  by  rain 

Made  fresh  and  strong. 

And  may  her  quickened  pulses  send 
True  as  the  heart-beat  of  a  friend 

Their   ruddy   flood 
Bounding  through  artery  and  vein 
And   rejuvenating  heart  and  brain 

With  ruby  blood. 

294 


And  O,  that  all  her  life  might  be 
A  song  pitched  in  the  happiest  key 

That  mortals  know; 
A  wild  crescendo  of  pure  joy 
Without  a   minim   of  alloy 

To    check   its    flow. 

And  ere  Life's  symphony  shall  cease 
May  many  years  of  smiling  peace 

Their  splendors  roll 
And  fill  for  her  each  day  and  night 
With  mighty  transports  of  delight 

And  peace  of  soul. 

And  so  may  joy  to  joy  succeed 

And  "  the  way  to  dusty  death  "  but  lead 

To  greater  bliss 
Ineffable  and  glory-crowned, 
A  world  where  ecstasies  abound 

Unknown  in  this. 


The  Golden  Wedding 

December  19,   1867— December   19,  1917 
(To  Judge  and  Mrs.  W.  M.  Tomlinson) 

A  golden  cycle  comes  today 

In  glory  to  its  close, 
Blending  blossom-laden   May 

With  Winter's  grander  snows! 

Kindly   hearts   of   genial  June 
Aglow  at   Life's  Yuletide, 

The  fervent  warmth  of  Summer  noon 
With  you  for  aye  abide 

Like  the  virile  pines  with  crests 

And    diadems    of    snow 
Holding  Springtime  in  their  breasts 

While  Winter  tempests  blowl 

295 


We   thank  you   for  the  kindly   face 
That  like  an   open  scroll 

Reveals  the   wealth   of  inward  grace 
And  majesty  of  soul! 

On  your  benignant  brows  we  lay 
The   chaplets   of   esteem, 

The  oak,  the   holly  and   the  bay 
And   our   love   supreme! 

Long  years  yet  to  bride  and  groom 
May   gentle   zephyrs   blow 

The   fragrance  of  the  orange   bloom 
Of   fifty  years   ago! 


From  Me  and  Doc 

To 

Norman  Dietrich 

We   say  good-bye 
(The  Doc  and  I) 

With    great    regret, 
For  one  more  true 
To  life  than  you 

We  never  met ! 

Y<»ur   knightly   style 
And  genial  smile 

And  laugh  of  glee 
Gave   rich  joy 
Without  alloy 

To  Doc  and  me! 

When   you  blew  in 
And  flipped  our  fin 

The  Doc  and  I 
Knew  we  had  found 
The   right  compound 

Of  earth   and  sky! 

296 


Your   flow   of   wit 
That    cheered    and    lit 

Old    Central    Block, 
Your  taste  and  tact 
And  tone  and  act 

Won  me  and  Doc ! 

To  me   and   Doc 
You  are  the  clock 

That   sets   the  Sun 
And   on   the  tide 
The  star  to  guide 

When  day  is  done  ! 

As   day  by  day 
You  go  your  way 

To  fame  and  wealth 
The  Doc  and  I 
Will  lift   it   high 

And  drink  your  health! 

The  ebb  and  flow 
Of   life   may  go 

On   Time's   sad   sea, 
But  till  the   end 
Count    on    a    friend 

In  Doc  and  me! 


To  a  Friend  in  Sorrow's  Shadows 

0  Friend  a   thousand   leagues   away 
My  thoughts  are  all  of  you  today, 

And  thought  can  quickly  span  the  space  parting  me  from 
thee ; 

1  on  Chicago's  outer  rim 

You  on  the  western  ocean's  brim 
Down  in  the  City  of  the  Angels  by  the  sunset  sea. 

297 


Oh,  how  often  have  they  sped 

Between   us  in  the  year  that's  fled, 
With   loads   of   healing   in   their  wings  to  solace  your   sad 
heart, 

And  in  the  dark  days  of  your  grief 

With  healing  balm  to  give  relief, 
To  lift  the  heavy,  inky  pall  and  rift  the  clouds  apart. 

Though   laden   with   a   good  intent 

On   futile   missions   were  they   sent, 
For  heavy  hearts  by  happy  songs  are   never   made   more 
light, 

But  though   we  know  we  can  but   fail 

Yet  still  we  strive  to  part  the  veil, 
To  push  aside  and  pin  with  stars  the  curtains  of  the  night. 

Oh,   I   have   been  appalled  to  view 

The   darkened   valley   you  passed   through 
Beneath  the  heavy  clouds  of  care,  beholding  through  your 
tears 

The    crowning   sorrow   of  your   days, 

The  parting  of  the  earthly  ways 
And  breaking  of  the  dearest  ties  of  all  the  fleeting  years. 

And  in  your  overwhelming  gloom 

Deep  as  a  black  funereal  plume 
Or  as  the  raven  robe  of  night  ungarnished  by  the  stars, 

My   sympathies    went   out    in    lieu 

Of  rod  and   staff  to  comfort  you 
Like    the   tidal   waves    of   ocean    sweeping    all    the    harbor 
bars. 

That   all   is   but  the   common  fate 

Does   not  one  jot   alleviate 
The  heart-aches  at  the  parting  for  the  rest  of  mortal  day, 

But  this  last  hour  leaves  a  trace 

That   time   and   change  will  not   efface 
Until  the  beating  breast  is  still  and  memory  fades  away. 


298 


That  mortal  man  was  made  to  mourn 
Makes   no   less   sharp   the   piercing   thorn 

And  all  the  sorrows  of  the  world  do  not  diminish  mine, 
But  each  must  tread  the  press  alone 
From  thrall  to  king  upon  the  throne 

And  from  the  lowly  cotter  to  the  prince  of  royal  line. 

For   so   the  sad   procession   goes 
From  violets  to  drifting  snows, 
From  the  baby's  golden   locks   to  the  old  man's  whitened 
hair, 
Changing  slowly  day  by  day 
As   embers   turn   from   red   to   gray 
And  the  glowing,  radiant   forehead  to  the  wrinkled   brow 
of  care. 

In  the  great  drama  of  the  past 

Through  chiliads  and  cycles  vast 
Man  has  played  the  tragic  role,  the  comic  and  the  mime, 

From  the   anchorite   and   clown 

Up   to   learning's   cap    and   gown 
And    in   every    form    and    fashion    from    the    grotesque    to 
sublime. 

Since   the   creation's   primal  dawn 

He   has   been   but   the   puny   pawn 
By  fickle  Fortune's  index  finger  pushed  about  at  will 

Across  the  checker-board  of  Fate 

Where  light  and  darkness  alternate, 
Held  by  the   players,   life  and   death,  the   hazard  of  their 
skill. 

But   doubtless   we   need   griefs   and  joys 

To  keep  our  souls  in  equipoise 
And  that  the  judgments  laid  on  us  are  just  and  right  de- 
crees, 

And  like  the  royal  orb  of  day 

Shower  rich  blessings  all  the  way 
From  Aurora's   rosy  portals   to   the   sapphire   sunset  seas. 

299 


Then  let  us  lay  aside  the  rue 
And  pin  the  hearts-ease  on  in  lieu 
With  thoughts  of  buds  and  blossoms  and  not  of  withered 
leaves ; 
But  of  bright  flowers  of  the  Spring 
When  feathered  songsters  mate  and  sing 
And  swallows  swiftly  skim  the  waters  and  build  along  the 
eaves. 

O   Sunbeam   fair,   the  brightest  one 

Shot  from  the  quiver  of  the   Sun 
Since  the  primeval  darkness  that  moved  upon  the  deep 

Fled  in  its  utter  rout  away 

Before  the  arrows  of  the  Day 
When  the  great  light  of  creation  woke  the  universe  from 
sleep, 

Dispel  with  your  resplendent  beams 

All  mists  and  fogs  and  troubled   dreams 
That  come  and  stay  unbidden  like  an  uninvited  guest, 

For  your   smile   and   jocund   laugh 

Can  scatter  like  wind-driven  chaff 
All    sad-eyed,    melancholy    cares    between    the    East    and 
West. 

Oh,  be  wise,  brave  heart,  and  know 

That  there  can  be   no  radiant  bow, 
Xo  arch  of  hope  and  promise,  except  for  clouds  and  rain, 

To  lift   its   grand,  majestic   form 

Like   a  bridge  that  spans  the  storm, 
A  highway  through  the  heavens  above  the  troubled  plain. 

Now  may  you  have  the  lion's  share 

Of  all  the  good  and  gay  and  fair 
And  one  sweet  vale  of  Avilion  may  all  your  future  be; 

Days  of  unspeakable  delight 

And  more  entrancing   dreams   by  night 
Than    ever    lotos    leaves    or    poppies    gave    their    dearest 
devotee. 

300 


May    olive    twigs    and    myrtle    leaves 
Bedeck  your  brow  like  fillet  wreaths 

And  the  orange,  oak  and  holly  and  the  lily  and  the  bay 
Adorn  your  breast  and  noble  head 
While  round  about  you  waft  and  spread 

All    the    redolence    and   glory    of    the    gorgeous    bloom    of 
May! 


An  Appreciation 

Your  hearts'  good  gifts 
Came  like  the  rifts 

In  cloudy  skies 
That  give  a   view 
Of   Heaven's   blue 

To  weeping  eyes ! 

Your  kindly  words 
Were  singing  birds 

Unto  my  ear 
And  to  my  heart 
A  flaming  dart 

Of  mighty  cheer ! 

As  thirsty  plain 
Receives  the  rain 

With  grateful  breast 
And   flowers  raise 
Their  heads  to  praise 

The  welcome  guest, 

Just   so  from  you 
The  healing  dew 

Upon  me  fell, 
And  no  sweet  balm 
From  pine  to  palm 

Could  sooth  so  well! 

301 


May   15,  1914. 


As  Jordan  did 
Each  year  amid 

The  harvest  time, 
My  stream  of  thanks 
O'erflows  its  banks 

In  prose  and  rhyme ! 

To   some  you  say 
I  answer,  nay, 

Because   I   know; 
And  yet  'tis   fine 
That   friends   of  mine 

Should  think  it  so  I 

Lily  and   rose 
Until  we  close 

Life's  little  book, 
Let  us,  I   plead, 
Be  friends  in  deed 

And  word  and  look! 


A  Rose  for  Remembrance 

(To   a    friend) 

To  speak  in  prose 
To  a  sweet  rose 

Would  be  a  wrong, 
And  so  I  need 
My  rustic  reed 

To   pipe  a   song. 

Full-blossomed    May 
In   one  bouquet 

To  you  I  send 
To  let  you  know 
Where'er    you   go 

You  have   a   friend. 

302 


And  if  sometime 
In  an  alien  clime 

I  shall  appear, 
(As  I  may  do 
Before  I'm  through 

Another   year) 

And   flowers   fair 
Bloom    everywhere 

And  skies  are  blue, 
Each  rose  I  see 
Shall  bring  to  me 

A  thought  of  you. 

When  ocean  wave 
And   winds  that  rave 

Shall  bear  me  far, 
Though  vain  I  yearn, 
Thought  shall  return 

To  where  you  are. 

And  when   I  feel 
Beneath    the    keel 

The    grating    rock 
And    bulkheads    thin 
Shall    crumble    in 

Before   the  shock, 

I'll  climb   the   mast 
And    take    a    last 

Long  look  toward  home 
Then   with   the   ship 
I'll  take  a   dip 

Beneath   the  foam 

Where   with   my   head 
On   coral  bed 

I'll  lie  and  dream, 
While  high  above 
The    stars    I   love 

In  grandeur  gleam. 

303 


May  9,  1914. 


I'll  dream  of  you 
With  all  my  true 

And    cherished   friends 
And  drink  a  toast 
To   all  the  host 

That  comprehends. 

But   if   my   fate 
Shall  be  to  wait 

Another   doom 
Where   death   shall  come 
With    rolling    drum 

And  cannons'  boom; 

Where  shells  shall  shriek 
And   sabers  reek 

With    Life's   red   wine 
Flowing    so    free 
It  shall  the  sea 

Incarnadine, 

Amid    the    fray 
Where   horses   neigh 

And  men  fall  dead, 
A  rose  in  bloom 
Shall  be  the  plume 

Upon   my  head. 


304 


Pure  Friendship 

Yes,  we   are  friends 

But  there  it  ends, 
Though  our  friendship  never, 

And  never  may 

We  see  the  day 
That  shall  those  bonds   dissever. 

Within  the  sphere 

Of    Friendship    dear 
And  in  that  sphere  abiding, 

Give  us  the  creed 

Of  heart  and  deed 
And  faith  in  Friendship's  guiding! 

Indeed,  I  hold 

Dearer  than   gold 
Friendship's   beacons   burning 

That   give   to   life 

Light    for    the    strife 
From  day  to  day  returning! 

No   crystal   draught 

That  men  have  quaffed 
Nor  breezes  from  the  mountain 

Can   buoy   me   up 

Like  one  clear  cup 
From  Friendship's  flowing  fountain! 

A  real   friend 

Can  heal  and  mend 
A   spirit   sad   and   broken — 

A  cure  complete 

For  all  defeat — 
By  one  word  kindly  spoken! 

305 


Then  without  art 
Let  heart  to  heart 

Send  to  each  other  greeting 
And  add  a  joy- 
Free    from   alloy 

At  every  casual  meeting! 

Let's    know    the    bounds 

And  shoals  and  sounds 
And  where  to  drop  the  plummet, 

Where  waves  run  high 

And  to  the  sky 
Lift  up  their  foamy  summit ! 

Let    us    clasp    hands 

Like    iron    bands 
As   friends — and    never    falter 

Till  embers  bright 

Turn   ashen   white 
Upon    Life's   glowing   altar! 

Upon   the   scroll 

Whereon  my  soul 
Acknowledges  its  debtors, 

Brilliant  and  clear 

There  shall  appear 
Your   name  in   golden   letters! 

I    prize    your    worth 

And  kindly  mirth, 
And  prize   them  very  greatly, 

And   like   a    queen 

Your    regal   mien 
So  ladylike  and  stately! 

In  bold   relief 

Among  the  chief 
Of  all   I  hold   the   dearest 

Your  name   shall   stand 

Serene  and  grand 
The  brightest  and  the  clearest! 

306 


I'll  write  that  name 

With  pen  of  flame 
Upon    the    list    I    cherish 

Where  it  shall  stay 

Till   that    far    day 
When  white-beard  Time  shall  perish. 

May  poets'  rhymes 

And  silver  chimes 
And  strains  of  music  blending 

Make  life  one  long 

And  grand,  sweet  song 
In  glorious  cadence  ending! 


May  9,  1914. 


The  Golden  Wedding 

In   shade   and   sun    for   fifty   years 
A  pathway  through  this  vale  of  tears 

Did   wend  its   winding  way! 
Begun  when  war  was  in  the  land 
It  ran,  with  Union,  hand  in  hand 

Unto  this  peaceful  day! 

With  heart  and  hand  and  sword  and  pen 
Brave   soldiers   for  the  weal  of  men 

You  bore  the  noblest  parts, 
And  as  befits  the  brave  and  true 
We  twine  the  laurel  wreaths  for  you, 

O  good  and  kindly  hearts! 

In   Summer's   heat   and   Winter's   blast; 
Through   sunny  fields  with  clouds  o'ercast 

Where  rue  and  roses  grew, 
The  good  and  ill  that  all  must  bear 
From  raven  locks  to  whitened  hair 

You  bore  serene  and  true! 

307 


And  now   within   your  crowns  of  snow 
May  happy  thoughts  of  long  ago 

Gleam  as  precious  gems, 
And   as   the  flying  years  increase 
May  you  wear  in  health  and  peace 

Your  well-earned  diadems! 


January  26,   1914. 


Despair 

The   Sun   has   set.     The   light   is   lost, 
And    I    live    in    the    afterglow 

When   Autumn's  hoar  and  killing  frost 
Is   blending   with    the   Winter   snow! 

My  tree  of   Hope   is   stripped   and  bare 
And  sere  and  yellow  all  its  leaves, 

As    Nature    voices    her    despair 

Lamenting  Summer's  golden   sheaves! 

Withered   to    its    lowest    roots 

And   to   its   branches'    endmost  tips, 

Like   Sodom's   apples  all   its   fruits 
Have  turned  to  ashes  on  my  lips! 

The    trees    like    choir    lofts    when    all 
The    winged    choristers    have    flown 

Wrapped  in  a  deep  cathedral  pall 

Stand    desolate    and    dark    and    lone! 

0  sunken  sun,  my  sinking  heart 

Like  thee  is  shrouded  in  eclipse, 
And  all  my  hopes  now  have  their  part 

In  Despair's  deep  and  sunless  crypts! 

1  call  on    Sleep  to   close   my   eyes 

And  hide  dark  Sorrow's  raven  plume, 
Nor  care  I  if  the  Sun  arise 

For   he   cannot   dispel  my  gloom! 

November  27,  1913. 

308 


Hymeneal 

The  lovely  Venus,  so  I  hear, 
Will   wed   Apollo    Belvedere 

In  the  great  church  tonight 
And  he  of  the  supernal  brow 
Of  Youth  Immortal  take  the  vow 

That  faithful  lovers  plight! 

Yea,  Hymen  never  saw  a   pair 
More  stately  and  divinely  fair 

Approach    his    blissful   shrine 
Under   June's    resplendent    rose 
Or  underneath  the  mistletoes 

The  holly  and  the  pine! 

Bride  with  large  and  lustrous  eyes 
Bright  as   when  the   Morning  skies 

Make    diamonds   of    the   dew, 
I  come  to  wish  you  joy  today 
And  on  your  bowered  bridal  way 

Just  drop  a  rose  or  two! 

Groom  adorned  witli  Wisdom's  crown 
And  robed  in  Learning's  cap  and  gown. 

Of   regal   mind  and   mien; 
Fortune    grant   you   a   long   reign, 
Peace  smile  on  your  rich  domain 

Benignant    and   serene! 

Flowers  spangle  all  your  meads, 
Music  blow  its  thousand  reeds 

Strong   and   full   and    free 
With   no  note  of  broken  flute, 
Loosened  string  or  rifted  lute 

To  mar  the  melody. 

309 


1919. 


July  7,  1915. 


Kingly  husband,   queenly  wife, 
In  the  primrose  days  of  life 

So  rich  and  glorified, 
As  fleet  Time  in  velvet  shoon 
Shall  glide  on,  may  endless  June 

In   your  glad  hearts   abide! 


To  Judge  W.  M.  Tomlinson 

(On   vacation) 

Unto   that   king 

Of  men  we  sing 
Our   little,   loyal   lay, 

Whose  scepter's  sheen 

Is  clear  and  keen 
And  bright  as   breaking  day! 

A    crown   of   snow 

And   heart    below 
Of  ermine's  spotless  white 

And    soul   as  strong 
linst    the    wrong 
As  manhood's  men  of  might! 

Crowned    with    bays 
And  length  of  days 

O  kindly  Judge  and  true, 
As   verdant  leaves 
To   ripened   sheaves 

We  bow  and  bend  to  you! 

Swift   be  the  sails 

And  kind  the  gales 
And    fair   the    fields   of    foam 

And   bring  you   here 

Safe   to  the   pier 
Within   the   port   of   home ! 

310 


The  Real  Royalty 

A   King  by   right, 

Although  no  bright 
Tiara  with  a  blazing  gem 

Rests   on   his   brow 

Or   liegemen   bow 
Prostrate  before   his  diadem! 

An  inward  grace 

That  lights  the  face 
Proclaims  who  is  a  rightful  queen 

And  fills  her  days 

With  winsome  ways 
And  kindly  looks  and  gentle  mien  ! 

No  royal  ring 

Can   make   a   king 
Or  shining  mail  a  noble  knight 

Unless   the    heart 

Is  counterpart 
Of  worthy  actions,  just  and  right! 

And  likewise  true 

No   retinue 
Or  pomp  of  Court  can  make  a  queen, 

Or  jewelled   crest 

Or   handmaids   dressed 
In  snowy   samite's   silken   sheen ! 

A  regal  state 

Can  emanate 
But  from  the  throne-room  of  the  heart 

From    whence    all    good 

And  true  knighthood 
And  all  the  high  impulses  start! 

311 


Bon  Voyage 


A  thousand  hearts  in   union  beat, 
As  one  a  thousand  voices  meet 

In    chorus    strong, 
Bearing  to  you  their  love  supreme, 
Their  lofty  pride  and  high  esteem 

In   one  great   song! 

Peace  rest  on  all  the  fields  of  foam 
And  fair  winds  waft  you  to  your  home 

Of  years  of  yore  ; 
That  stern,  strong  land  where  genius  grows 
That  precious  isle,  that  noble  rose 

We  all  adore! 

Oh,  may  the  music  of  the  deep 

From  harps  that  all  the  free  winds  sweep 

At  their  wild  will 
Bring  you  no  sigh  of  sobbing  surge, 
Xo  threnody  or  doleful  dirge 

Or  tale  of  ill, 

But  the  great  anthem  of  the  sea 
Thrill  you  with  its  high  majesty 

And  solemn  time, 
Its  organ  thunders  multiplied, 
Its   diapason   full  and  wide — 

A   song   sublime! 

And  O  sweet  and  snow-crowned  queen, 
May  Memory's  meadows  fresh  and  green 

Bring  joy  to  you, 
And  Beauty  spread,  as  in  old  days, 
O'er  English  fields  and  Scottish  braes 

Your  youth  renew! 

312 


Fair  daughters   of   exalted  song, 
Of  noble  sire  great  and  strong 

In   Song's   domain, 
In  that  high  realm  a   peerless   lord 
Of  master  key  and  major  chord 

And  grand   refrain, 

The  winds  that  sweep  the  Seven   Seas 
(As  your  deft  fingers  sweep  the  keys 

Of  Harmony) 
Their  thousand   songs  sublime   shall   send 
And  in  your  bosoms  merge  and  blend 

Their   melody ! 

O  sweet  sojourners,  every  heart 
"  Bon  Voyage  "  beats  as  you  depart, 

And  clear  and  true 
Shall  flow  a  song  of  love  serene 
In  sweet  antiphony  between 

Our  hearts   and   you! 


A.  P. 

Here's  to  you 
Tried  and  true 

Jolly    wight 
Full  of  fun 
As  the  sun 

Is  of  light! 

Full  of  wit, 
Nor  a  bit 

Dull  or   dry, 
With  a  bright 
Lurking  light 

In   his   eye. 

313 


Pun  and  jest 
Just  the  best 

Ever  heard! 
Smooth  and  smart 
True  and  tart 

Ev'ry   word ! 

Full  of  mirth 
As   the   Earth 

Is  of  gold! 
Repartee 
Flashing  free 

Quick  and  bold  1 

Mind  alert, 
Pat  and  pert 

Full  of   pep, 
Making  gay 
Life's  dull  way 

Ev'ry  step  ! 

Let  your  gleams 
And  bright  beams 

Pierce  the  pall 
And  the  gloom 
Dark  as  doom 

Over    all. 

Part   and    rift 
With   the   gift 

Of   your   fun 
Mist  and  cloud 
That   enshroud 

The  sweet  Sun. 

Sprinkle  nice 
Wholesome   spice 

Upon   life ; 
It  is  oil 
To  the   toil 

Tired  strife, 

314 


Ev'ry   joke 
Is  a  stroke 

Full  and  fair 
Piercing  through 
Somber-blue 

Mailed  Despair ! 

Ev'ry   laugh 

Is  a  staff 

In   the   hand 

As  we  go 

Lame   and   slow- 
Through  the  land ! 

Jester   king 
Laugh    and   sing 

Loud  and  long 
Until   Death 
Stops   your   breath 

And  your  song! 

(Written  en  route  the  Hanly-Landrith  Transcontinental 
Prohibition    Special   Train.) 

Wedding  Wishes 

To  L.  St.  C. 

Fair  be  the  gales  and  smooth  the  sea 
O  benedict  about  to  be, 

As    you    embark 
To  voyage  with  your  winsome  bride 
When  Love  shall  launch  upon  the  tide 

Your  little  ark! 

A  happy  haven  be  your  home 
Beside   the   peaceful   fields   of   foam 

Where   sunlit   sails 
Go  daily  by  with  jolly  crews 
Sending  their  welcomes  and  adieus 

And  hearty  hails  ! 

315 


May  Wisdom  stand  beside  the  wheel 
And  from  top-gallant  to  the  keel 

Keep  watchful  eye 
On  beam  and  boom  and  gaff  and  spar 
And  hold  the  compass  to  the  star 

When  day  shall  die! 

Without  a  master  may  the  mates 
As  joint  co-pilots  face  to  fates 

Immune  to  harm 
And  through   the   far-extended   days 
Adown   the  long  companionways 

Walk   arm   in   arm! 

These   are   the   wishes  of  that   band 

With  whom  you  went  from  strand  to  strand 

Jocund  and  wise, 
And  shall  be   with  you   to  the  end 
When  twilight-dusk  and  dark  shall  blend 

And  stars  arise  ! 


Wenatchee  Apples 

Thanks  for  the  apples  of  the  West, 
The  land  where  everything  is  best 

One  easily  believes; 
They  were  both  beautiful  and  sweet 
And  I  fell  for  your  luscious  treat 

As  Adam  fell  for  Eve's ! 

May  these  three  great  apples  be 
A  triple  bond  between   us  three, 

A  League  of  Nations  pact, 
That  shall  grow  stronger  day  by  day 
And   pleasanter   in   every  way — 

In   look  and  word  and  act ! 

316 


When  fleet  Time  shall  have  effaced 
The  flavor  and  the  pleasant  taste 

That  now  delights  me  so 
A  sweeter   essence   shall  abide — 
That  subtle  something  glorified 

That  only  friends   can  know ! 


Reply  to  a  Metrical  Attack  on 
Woodrow   Wilson 

With  rhyme   and  reason  gone   awry 
And  all  things  to   his  jaundiced  eye 

A  yellow  hue, 
From  Helicon's  soft-padded  cell 
A  "  certain   bardie  "  with   a   yell 

Has   broken    through ! 

Swift   Pegasus   he   leaped   astride 
And  ripped  the  rowels  in  his  side 

And  shook  the  rein 
Until  the  curb  and  snaffle  rang 
In  tune  to  the  wild  words  he  sang 

With  fierce  refrain ! 

He  saw  in  every  yellow  leaf 

A  likeness  to  the  Nation's  Chief, 

The  wise  and  great, 
And  it  was  to  his  frenzied  mind, 
Where  Reason's  eyes  were  stony  blind, 

A  thing  of  hate ! 

He  smote  with  phantom  sword  the  foe, 
And  from   his  strong,   full-tensioned   bow 

His   quills  he  shot 
Like   fretful   porcupines   that   dare 
To  dart  their  bristles  at  a  bear 

Who  heeds  them  not ! 

317 


With  reckless  rant  and  words  uncouth 
He  called  his  Chief  a  foe  to  truth — 

A  liar   base — 
And  with  words  of  bane  and  blight 
Condemned  his  name  to  endless  Xight 

And  deep  disgrace ! 

He  called  him  coward  and  poltroon 
And  damned  him  by  the  Sun  and  Moon 

And  by  the  Pole, 
Then  on  bended  knees  he  prayed 
Mount   Vernon's   mute  and   noble   shade 

To  blast  his  soul! 

O  batty  bard,   the  slop  and   slime 
You  poured  upon  a  name  sublime 

Shall  leave  no  mark; 
Go  back  to  Helicon  once  mon. 
Lock  the  Pegasean  stable  door 

And   keep   it   dark  ! 

And   if  again   you   ever   mean 

To  drink  a   draught  from   Hippocrene 

Oh,  let   it  be 
As   pure  and  wholesome  as   the   dew, 
And  not  the  dark  and  poison  brew 

Of  upas  tree ! 


February  22,  1916. 


318 


Lottie  Holman  O'Neill 

A  noble  woman  keen  as  steel, 

A  Mother  militant  and  strong, 

A  spirit  gracious  and  genteel, 

A  soul  keyed  to  a  martial  song! 

A  daughter  of   a  great  domain 

Whose  starry  splendors  never  set, 

A  flower  of  its  far-flung  plain, 
A  jewel  in  its  coronet ! 

A  clear  light  in  the  halls  of  State, 
A  heart  true  to  a  high  emprise, 

A  guide  in   council  and  debate, 

An  eye  to  pierce  the  web  of  lies! 

A  mind  well-poised  to  judge  aright, 
A   wisdom   to   discern   the   sin — 

The  subtle  poison  and  the  blight — 
Of  foes  without  and  foes  within  ! 

This  gifted  woman,  wise  and  sweet, 
O  Illinois,  we  give  to  thee, 

To  sit  where  thy  law-givers  meet, 
Among  thy  noble  chivalry  ! 

April   9,    1924. 

(On   reelection  to   Illinois   Legislature) 


319 


Lucy  Page  Gaston 

(Founder   of    Illinois    Anti-Cigarette    League) 

A   Frances   Willard  warring   with   a   viler   vice 

Than  Strong  Drink's  defilement  of  the  sons  of  men, 

A  true  and   dauntless   woman  paying   the  deadly  price 
Of    Ridicule's    relentless   poison   tongue   and    pen! 

She  shielded  budding  boyhood — the  cherubim  of  earth, 
From  the   foul  contagion   of   Narcotic's  breath, 

And   his   heritage  of   health  and  wholesome  mirth 
Against  the  pale  miasma  from  the  fens  of  death! 

Yet  even   children's  fathers  derided   and  reviled 
Her  noble  zeal  and  efforts  for  the  cleaner  life, 

Her  pity  and  heart-burning  for  the  addict's  child 
Stumbling  at  the  threshold  of  his  years  of  strife  1 

The  universal  habit  now  runs   at  fever  pace 

As  a  fire  sweeps  through  wood  and  flowery  field, 

The  charred  and  ashen  relics  of  whose  ruthless  race 

Are  wounded  souls  and  bodies  that  cannot  be  healed! 

But  the  intrepid  women  who  wear  the  twofold  sign — 
The    immaculate    White    Ribbon    and    the    conquering 
Cross — 

E'en  as  they  triumphed  over  the  red  hosts  of  Wine 

May  yet  turn  back  this  scourge  of  tragedy  and  loss! 

Golden  shall  be  the  harvest  of  this  brave  pioneer 

Who  sowed  and  tilled  and  watered  in  a  barren  land. 

And  the  desert  yet  shall  blossom,  in  no  far  off  year, 
Beneath  the  benediction  of  her  faithful  hand! 

August  14,  1924. 


320 


Susan  B.  Anthony 

She  blazed  the  Way  that  now  is  a  wide  Thoroughfare 
Stretching  to  the  margin  of  either  mighty  Sea, 

A  Road  of  Right   Resplendent,  magnificently  rare, 
A  Galaxy  that  spans  the  Land  of  Liberty! 

Fearless,    distant-visioned,    intrepid    pioneer, 

Whom  wilderness  and  mountain  could  not  stay  or  stop, 

Far  off  she  saw  the  morning  breaking  bright  and  clear 
Glinting  with   its   Glory   the    lofty   mountain   top! 

Undaunted  by  the  drear,  dark  decades  of  defeat 
And  hostile   hordes  of   evil  and  misguided  men, 

Her  trumpet,  triumph-timbered,   never  blew  retreat, 
And  never  still  her  stirring  martial  voice  and  pen! 

Now  twenty  million  women  with  the  shining  brand 
And  panoply  and  buckler  that  her  valor  won 

Cleanse  and  scourge  the  dens  and  jungles  of  the  land, 
As  mist  and  fog  and  Night  are  routed  by  the  Sun! 

Columbia's  brave  daughter,  on  the  Charter's  page 
Is  your  spirit  writ  in  lines  of  living  light, 

Thou  noble  statesman-seer,  valiant  soldier-sage, 
Forerunner  of  the  Dawn  of  triumphant  Right! 

August  24,  1924. 


321 


4  A   Noble   Woman   Nobly  Planned  M 

To  Mrs.  E.  S.  S. 

Quiet  Queen 
Sweet  of  mien 

And  of  face; 
Counterparts 
Of   her   heart's 

Ev'ry  grace. 

Dian-browed 
And  endowed 

With  a  mind 
Strong  as  steel, 
Yet  genteel 

And  refined. 

Winsome   smile 
Without  guile, 

Without  art ; 
Sparkling  cup 
Bub'ling  up 

From  her  heart. 

'Round   her    throne 
Taste   and  tone, 

Maidens    sweet, 
Calm,  sedate, 
Stand  and  wait 

At  her  feet. 

Culture  lays 
Its  green  bays 

On  her  hair; 
Diadems 
Set  with  gems 

Rich   and  rare. 

322 


1916. 


Kindly  light 
In  the  night 

Time  of  tears, 
Lend  your  gleam 
Through  the  dream 

Troubled  years. 

O  divine 
Beacon,  shine 

Soft  and  sweet, 
Giving  rest 
To  our  breast 

Full,  complete ! 


Your  Visit 

(To  V.) 

O  sagacious  damsel, 
Deep  as  Aristotle, 
Sapient  as  Plato, 

Sage  as   Socrates ; 
Well  I  know  your  wisdom, 
Well  you  know  my  friendship, 
And  within  those  limits 

May  I  send  you  these? — 

Like  the  first  red  robin 
In  the  leafless  maples 
Chirping  the  bright  promise 

Of  the  coming  Spring, 
Was  your  visit  welcome 
As   this   vernal   prophet 
And  the  pleasant  season 

He  is  heralding! 

323 


Like  a  gentle  south-wind 
Warm  and  welcome  blowing 
O'er  the  frozen   Northland 

Desolate  and  drear, 
Opening  the  eyelids 
Of   the   sleeping  flowers, 
Was  the  sunny  splendor 

Of  your   advent   here! 

Back  to  Wheaton's  purlieus 
Came  the  singing  throstle, 
Came  the  whistling  plover 

Back  to  field  and  fen, 
Came  the  glossy   red-wing 
To  the  reedy  marshes 
Waking  wood  and  meadow 

To  new  life  again  ! 

The  sweet  realms  of  Flora 
Full  of   fragrant   roses 
Are  not  more  delightful 

Than   fair  Friendship's   field 
Whose   soul-soothing   flowers 
Shed  their  balmy  attar 
Whereby    every   troubled 

Heavy  heart  is  healed! 

Hold  these  lines  I  send  you 
But  a  bunch  of  flowers 
A   wayfarer  gathered 

For  a  fellow  soul 
As   they   haply  journey 
To  the  Sunset  Ocean 
Whose  out-going  vessels 

Seek  an  unknown  goal! 

If  their  freshness   sweetens 
But  a  passing  moment 
Ere  they  fade  and  wither 
I  will  be  content, 

324 


Feb.  7,  1921. 


Though  I  would  each  hour 
Be  as  full  of  sunshine 
As  the  Sun  at  noon-day 
In  the   firmament! 

Come  again  and  often, 
Charm  us  with  your  witty 
Philosophic   comment 

Upon  men  and  things, 
With  your  apt  word  pictures 
And  your  fertile  fancies 
Like  a  fountain  bubbling 

Up  from  hidden  springs ! 


To 
A  Friend 

(In  California) 

To   say  a  word 
To  a  sweet  bird 

In  aught  but  rhyme 
Or  else  a  song 
Would  be  a  wrong, 

If  not  a  crime ! 

So  I  must  take 
For   old  times'   sake 

Some   minor  key 
And  sing  to  you 
Beside  the  blue 

And  distant  sea, 

Or  either  fill 
My  fountain  quill 

With  those  rare  wines 
Of  those   rich   blends 
Friends  pledge  to  friends, 

To  write  my  lines ! 

325 


The   Temple   bells 
Where  Justice  dwells 

Add  their  sweet  chimes 
And  noble  song 
To   send  along 

With  my  poor  rhymes ! 

And    every    note 
Of   pen  or  throat 

In  tempo  true 
From  basso  G 
To  concert   C 

I  send  to  you ! 

May   Summer   hold 
You  in  its  fold 

And  keep  you  warm 
While  here  we  freeze 
And  the  white  bees 

Of  Winter  swarm! 


To  Baby  Oakes 

O    lucky    lad 

With  such  a  Dad 
And  such  a  winsome  Mother, 

For  none  more  brave 

And  fair  e'er  gave 
Their  love  to  one   another! 

O   vine  that   yokes 

Laurels  and  Oakes — 
A  tender,  clinging  creeper — 

May  you  grow  strong 

As  iron  thong 
And  rooted  deep  and  deeper! 

326 


Long  life  to  thee, 
Kind    and    care-free 

Be  all  your  blissful  hours 
As  winds  that  sip 
The  nectared  lip 

Of  honey-laden  flowers ! 


Written  on  Fly-Leaf  Presenting  My  Book 

Sweet  flowers  have  delighted  me, 

Sweet  friends  have  spoken  kindly  words 

And  aviary  and  nested  tree 

Have  sent  the  thrilling  songs  of  birds! 

And  buds  and  blossoms  by  the  score 

Are   pressed  between   this  booklet's   leaves 

Where   present  friends  and   friends   of  yore 
Are  bound,  like  flowers  in  the  sheaves! 

Yea,    this   book    speaks    of    many   stars, 

Of  rainbows,  Morn  and  Moon  and  Sun, 

Of  seas  and  ships  and  ocean  bars, 
But  of   charming  birds — just  one! 

But  suns  may  set  in  sapphire  seas 

And  moonlight's  silver  splendors  shine, 

Yet  all  were  incomplete  with  these — 

Without  this  Bird — this  friend  of  mine! 


If  there  is  aught  within  this  book 
Of  singing  bird  or  rippling  brook 

Or  flower  fair 
Or  gleaming  star  or  bow  that  bends, 
It  is  because  my  splendid  friends 

Have  placed  them  there! 

327 


A  few  bright  buds  still  wet  with  dew 
And  bound  herein  were  picked  for  you 

With   gentle   hand, 
With  kindly  thoughts  and  hopes  sincere 
For  added  sweetness  year  by  year 

As  they  expand! 

Take  them,  O  genteel  girl,  and  place 
Within  the  rare  and  fragile  vase 

Of  Friendship  true 
And  let  them  ever  testify 
My  unalloyed  esteem  and  high 

Regards  for  you! 


A  woman  dowered  with  soul  and  sense 
Is  the  noblest  work  of  Providence, 

Like   honest   men; 
And  herein  are  some  little  lays 
To  such  a  one — wrorthy  the  praise 

Of  better  pen ! 

The  attributes  that  meet  and  blend 

To  make  Life's  rarest  flower — a  friend — 

Are   in   her   heart; 
Wise  in  words  and  kind  in  deeds 
She   neither  seeks   nor   knows  nor  needs 

The  ways  of  art ! 


328 


"  Darker  Musings  " 

As  a  tree  dead  at  the  core 
May  live  on  a  decade  more 

In  the  wood, 
Green   in   Summer's   genial  glow 
And  in  Winter  with  the  snow 

For  a  hood, 

Laboring  with  twig  and  leaf 
To   conceal   the  inward   grief 

Of  its  breast, 
Offering  to  all  the  sweet 
Airy  songsters  a  retreat 

And  a  nest; 

Never  mark  or  scar  is  there 

As    when    lightning's    flaming    share 

Plows    its    thin 
Ragged  furrow  down  its  sides; 
Yet  the  scar  of   death  abides 

Far  within! 

So  I  stand  in  shade  and  shine 
Showing  by  no  outward  sign 

My  despair, 
Even  singing  happy  songs 
And  appearing  to  the  throngs 

Free  from  care, 

While  the  inner,  hidden  part 
Is  a  breast  without  a  heart, 

Dead  and  sere, 
Showing  as  the  days  go  by 
Neither  sorrow  nor  a  sigh 

Nor  a  tear ! 

329 


Held  in   place  against  the  blast 
By  the  deep  roots  of  the  past 

Firmly  set ; 
Fair  without  to   mortal   eyes, 
But    within — a    thousand   sighs 

Of    regret ! 


November,  1914. 


A  Vacation  Message 

Majestic    friend    who    doth    combine 
The  royal  palm  and  noble  pine 

In  grace  and  stately  mien; 
Our   Temple    is    disconsolate 
And  loyal  subjects  longing  wait 

For  their   returning   queen! 

Just    as    Nature    greets    the    Sun 
And  all  the   happy  birds   as  one 

Sing   the   sweet   "  Reveille  " 
And  as  the  bright  and  rosy  Dawn 
Is  welcome  when  the  Night  is  gone 

So   shall  your  advent  be ! 

Blest  shall  be  the  day  and  clear 
All  the  skies  when  you  are  here 

Again  upon  the  throne, 
Regal,  gracious,  wise  and  fair, 
With  that  fine,  unique  and  rare 

Effulgence  all  your  own  1 


330 


Vacation  Greetings 

With  high  regards  we  send  these  lines 
To  a  sweet  primrose   in  the  pines 

By  Northern  lake  and  stream. 
A   fragile   flower,   truly   rare, 
Exquisite,    delicate   and   fair 

As  a   delightful  dream! 

A  maid  of  clear  and  quiet  eyes, 
Like  the  serene  and  azure  skies 

Deep-mirrored  in  the  sea, 
With  winsome  ways,  genteel  and  choice, 
And  kindly  speech  and  pleasant  voice 

And  laugh  of  lightsome  glee! 

May  the  great  forest  sing  to  her 
And  balm  of  balsam,  spruce  and  fir 

Add  all  their  healing  charm, 
And  Dryads  dance  among  the  trees 
And  sylvan  Nymphs  and  Naiades 

Protect   her  from  all  harm! 

And  may  she  take  on  life  anew, 
Like  flowers  freshened  by  the  dew, 

And  in  a  little  while, 
When  her  vacation  rest  is  o'er, 
The  Temple  of  the  Law  once  more 

Make  brighter  by  her  smile ! 


331 


To  a  Sick  Singer 


Blest  be   the  breeze  that  bears   this  word 
Of  cheer  unto  a  sick   song  bird 

Within  her  cruel  cage, 
And  may  it  carry  healing  balm 
And   give   her   stormy   fever   calm 

And  all  her  pain  assuage ! 

Oh,  may  she  be  with  us  ere  long 
And  with  the  rhapsody  of  song 

Of  birds   uncaged  and   free 
Set  all  our  sluggish  souls  in  tune, 
E'en  as  the  rare,  rich  days  of  June, 

By  her  sweet  melody! 

Come  quick,  and  from  your  silver  throat 
Pour  forth  again   the  gladsome  note 

Of  sweet  and  noble  song; 
The  lightsome  lute  of  mirth  and  glee 
And  the  great  organ  of  the  sea 

Melodious  and  strong! 


332 


A  Spring  Salutation 

As   the   Spring 
Seasons    bring 

Birds   and  bloom 
And  the   long 
Days  of  song 

And  perfume, 

They  bring,  too, 
Thoughts  of  you 

Like  the  glint 
Of  new  gold 
From  the  mold 

Of  the  mint! 

Buds  and  birds 
Without  words 

Say  sweet  things 
To   our   hearts, 
Beyond  art's 

Fathomings ! 

With  delight 
Just  the  sight 

Of  a  rose 
Fills  the  soul 
Like  a  bowl 

That  o'erflows! 

Take  this  wee 
Chickadee 

Vernal  verse, 
In  your  gay 
Lightsome  way 

Sweet  and  terse ! 

333 


Give  it  place 
For  the  space 

Of  a  wink, 
Or  the  lay 
Of  a  gay 

Bobolink! 

Violets 
And  sunsets 

All  shall  fade, 
But  not   so 
Shall  you  go, 

Winsome  maid! 


An  Easter  Morning  Muse 

(To  a  friend) 

When  the  Spring  awakens 
Like  a  sleeping  infant 
And  its  eyes  of  violets 

Smilingly  unclose, 
Then  as  lovely  flowers 
Greet    the    glowing   morning 
All  my  fancies  open 

Like  a  budding  rose ! 

On  this  splendid  Easter 
When  both  men  and  Nature 
Speak  of  resurrection 

And  of  life  anew, 
Spring  in  Memory's  meadows 
Those  delightful  flowers 
Laden  down  with  fragrant 

Kindly  thoughts  of  you. 

Like  the  tender  flowers 
Coming  forth  in  triumph 
From  the  tomb  of  Winter 
In  a  glad  array, 

334 


True  friendships  are  immortal 
As  the  deathless  flowers 
And  become  more  precious 
Every  passing  day. 

When  the  flocks  of  wild  geese 
Northward  through  the  heavens 
Shoot  like  mighty  arrows 

From  an  archer's  bow, 
And  the  "wanderlust"  resistless 
Makes   the  heart-beats   quicken 
Till  life's  red  river  rises 

To  an  overflow, 

Then  I  flee  in  spirit 
To   the   sunset   city 
By  the  broad  Pacific 

Where  the  sunbeam   dwells, 
And  in  Mercy's   mission 
Leads  a  life  of  service 
That  fills  the  world  with  music 

Sweet   as   silver   bells. 

When   the   herald  robin 
The  outrunner  of  the  army 
Of  the  airy  songsters 

Sounds  his  primal  notes 
And  the  hosts  of   warblers 
Come  with  songs  outpouring 
In  a  sweet  crescendo 

From  a  million  throats, 

Then  I   hear  the   music 
Of  your  pleasant  laughter 
And  your  good,  full-hearted, 

Kindly  words  of  cheer, 
Bright  and  gay  and  lively 
As  a  Summer  river 
Full   of   little   fishes 

Running  swift  and  clear. 

335 


When   the   streamlets   fleeing 
From  their  icy  prison 
Through   the   daisied    meadows 

Singing  as  they  run, 
All  their  happy  voices 
With  praises  for  their  freedom 
In   unison  arising 

To  the  golden  Sun, 

Then  I  think  of  fountains 
In  your  sunny  country 
That  never  felt  the  rigors 

Of  the  Northern  cold, 
But  all  things   are   tempered 
By  the  smile  benignant 
Of  a  glowing  Sunbeam 

Bright  as  burnished  gold. 

And  now  on  you  forever 
Kind  Fortune  be  attendant 
With  all  the  charm  and  beauty 

Of  an  open   rose, 
A  regal  state  befitting 
Thou  most  queenly  Sunbeam 
And  the  best  of  mortals 

Earth  or  ocean   knows! 


April  7,  1912. 


Easter  Day  Musings 

Birds  may  sing 
And  bells  ring 

Easter  chimes, 
But  of  you 
Tried   and  true 

Are  my  rhymes ! 

There  is  naught 
In   my  thought 
Or  my  dream 

336 


That   transcends 

The  good  friends 

I  esteem! 

In  the  fawn- 
Colored  Dawn 

And  in   bright 
Lucifer 
And  Hesper 

I  delight! 

The   sun-kissed 
Amethyst 

Ev'ning  skies 
Turning  gray 
As  the  Day 

Slowly  dies ; 

And  each  clean 
Silver  sheen 

Starry  light 
Like  vedette 
Sentries  set 

'Round  the   Night 

The  array 
Of  the  gay- 

Petaled  host, 
Telling  more 
Than  the  lore 

Sages  boast, 

Making  kind 
And  refined 

Hearts  and  deeds, 
Putting  love 
Far  above 

Any  creeds ! 

337 


All  of  these 
Thrill  and  please 

And   enthuse 
Voice  and  pen 
Of  all  men 

And  the  Muse ! 

But  as   far 
As  a  star 

Is   away 
And  less  bright 
Is  the  night 

Than  the  day, 

So  the  sweet 
And  complete 

Earthly  things 
Are  alloys 
To  the  joys 

Friendship  brings! 

As  a  friend 
Till  the  end 

That  must  be, 
I  count  you, 
And  you,  too, 

May  count  me  I 

An  Easter  Salutation 

Easter  morn 
Bloom,  adorn 

All   your   days 
With   the  bright 
Kindly  light 

Of  its  rays ! 

May  a  new- 
Risen  view 

Of  the  world 

338 


And  of  men, 
To  your  ken 
Be  unfurled, 

Like   the   great 
Flag   of   State 

White   and   red 
With  bright  bars 
And  blue  stars 

Overhead! 

Never  nest 
On  the  crest 

Of  a  tree 
Ever  heard 
Of  a  bird 

Like  to  thee ! 

Best  of  friends, 
Wherein  blends 

Every  grace ; 
Gentle   birth, 
Wholesome   mirth, 

Kindly  face, 

Solid  sense, 
Soul   intense 

And  precise, 
As  a  prim 
Seraphim, 

Just  as  nice ! 

Wise  and  clear 
As  a  seer 

Deep  in  lore, 
Tried  and  true 
Through  and  through 

To  the  core! 

339 


Genteel  style, 
Winsome    smile, 

Willing   hand. 
Voice  and  mien 
Like  a   queen 

Of  fayland! 

This  wee  verse 
Doth    rehearse 

But  a  part 
Of  the  gold 
Manifold 

In  your  heart ! 

It  is  you 
To  my  view 

In  outline 
With  the  best 
Unexpressed — 

Superfine ! 

In  the   strife 
Of  your  life 

Easter  peace 
Multiplied, 
Come,   abide 

And  increase ! 


To  a  Friend  at  Easter 

Maid  of  moods  and  fancies 
Gay  as  dryad  dances 

By  the  sylvan  streams ; 
Be  your  Days  but  pleasure 
And  your  Nights  a  treasure 

House  of  happy  dreams! 

Only   stars   adorning 
The  bright  brow  of   Morning 
Wonderfully  fair, 

340 


Or  the  Easter  flowers 
After  April  showers 

Can  with  you  compare ! 

Now  as  Lent  is  ending 

All  my  thoughts   are  tending 

Towards  you,  winsome  one, 
As  the  buds  new-risen 
From  their  Winter   prison 

Look  up  to  the  Sun ! 


An  Easter  Greeting 

The  sweetest  season  of  the  year, 
The  Spring  with  all  its  bloom,  is  here 
When  latent  life  doth  first  appear 

And  everything  is  green  and  growing, 
When  Nature  wears  a  verdant  plume 
And  loads  the  air  with  sweet  perfume 
From  buds  just  bursting  into  bloom, 

When  balmy  breezes,  too,  are  blowing. 

On  every  side  we  see  the  sign 
Of  the  handiwork  of  the  divine, 
E'en  in  the  clouds  the  rainbows  shine 

And  earth  is  one  great  emerald  beauty 
The  singing  streamlet  softly  flows 
Fed  from   its   fields   of  melting  snows, 
'Tis  the  "time  of  Romeo  and  the  rose" 

And  the  sleepless  sentinel  is  on  duty. 

It  is  the  Easter  time  of  earth — 
Of  resurrection  and  new  birth — 
When  Nature  sings  her  songs  of  mirth, 

Of  promise,  gladness  and  good  tidings. 
No  mortal  minstrel's  harp  howe'er 
Strung  with  Apollo's  golden  hair 
In  songs  with  Nature  can  compare 

To  satisfy  the  soul's  confidings. 

341 


Now  in  the  Easter  of  our  lives 
When  hopes  like   rainbow  arches   rise 
Proclaiming  promise  from  the  skies 

Which  Youth  and  Spring  are  both  repeating, 
I  wish  as  from  a  friend  to  friend, 
And  may  we  be  so  to  the  end, 
To  you,  my  College  mate,  to  send 

A  kindly,  cordial  Easter  greeting. 


Easter 

(To  a  friend) 
Most   beautiful    Pagan,    most    sweet   Jew." — Shakespeare 

With  proud  lilies  in  my  view 

At  this  charming  Easter  hour, 
Still  my  thoughts  are  all  of  you, 

Noble  Judah's  choicest  flower! 

Bright  and  pleasant  as  a  star 

The  great  dome  of  Night  adorning; 

Friend  with  whom  I  traveled  far 

To  the  Sunset  and  the   Morning! 

Lady,  gentle,  winsome,  wise, 

Weaving  work  with  lightsome  laughter 
Kinder  words   and   kinder   eyes 

Know  I  not,  nor  shall  hereafter! 

Life  be  a  full-blossomed  May 

Thrilling  you  with  all  its  glory, 

As  ten  thousand  hearts  today 

Thrill  to  hear  the  Easter  story! 


342 


A  Thanksgiving  Thought 

Oh,  blessed  be  the  dreams  of  day 

And  blessed  be  the  dreams  of  night 

In  which  we  leave  the  tent  of  clay 

And  roam  beyond  the  realms  of  sight! 

I  see  you  by  the  far-off  main, 

I  bring  you  on  the  wings  of  thought, 

For  Fancy's  lightning  aeroplane 

Counts  twenty  hundred  miles  as  naught  1 

But  pause  upon  this  Day  of  Thanks 
Amid   Life's   never-resting   war 

Where  men  crowd  on  in  serried  ranks 
Like  ocean  billows  to  the  shore, 

And  let  us  look  with  candor  through 
The  Day  Book  of  the  dying  year 

With  all  the  entries,  false  and  true, 
That  on  its  faded  leaves  appear! 

We  count  the  bruises  and  the  balm, 
We  check  the  gladness  and  the  grief, 

We  weigh  the  tempests  and  the  calm, 
The  blossoms  and  the  yellow  leaf, 

And  when  the  final  score  is  told 

We  scarce  would  change  it  if  we  could, 

For  the  weal  exceeds  a  thousand  fold 
The  ill — which  may  be  disguised  good! 


343 


A  Thanksgiving  Day  Muse 

(To   a    friend) 

A  year  of   disappointments  keen 

Has  reached  its  close, 
Of  buried   expectations,   e'en 
As  Autumn  with  its  golden  sheen 
Beneath  the  snows, 

And  barren  as  a  Winter  wood 

The  world  appears ; 
Where  once  a  leafy  forest  stood 
A  lone,  green  pine  with  snowy  hood 

Its  head  uprears ! 

Adverse  winds  have  blown  since  then 

Upon  us  all 
And  nipped  the  flowering  hopes  of  men 
And  the  white  petals  fell  as  when 

The   snow   flakes   fall! 

Yet  for  our  special  thanks  this  Day 

Is  set  apart — 
And  if  we  look  aright  we  may 
Discern  amid  the  gloom  a  ray 

To  cheer  the  heart ! 

Behold  the  berries  bright  and  red 

On  holly  bough 
Aflame  with  life— though  earth  is  dead 
And  Winter's  counterpane  is  spread 

Upon   it  now ! 

Forgetting  what  'twere  vain  to  mourn 

Let   us   but   see 
The  blessings  that  the  year  hath  borne 
From  Fortune's  overflowing  horn 

To  you  and  me ! 

344 


Thanks  for  memories  that  endear 

Our   College   home 
And  the  men  whose  lives  appear 
Like  the  stars  serene  and  clear 

Above  its  dome ; 

For  the  strength  and  grace  to  do 

The  things  we  should, 
And  hearts  to  stand  up  with  the  few 
And  cast  a  ballot  pure  and  true 
And   wholly  good ; 

For  the  mortal  wounds  the  wrong 

Hath  lately  felt 
In  the  blows  that  felled  the  strong 
And  lordly  license  party's  throng, 

However  dealt ! 

Though  the  wicked  smote  and  slew 

Their   wicked   kin, 
Yet  are   thanks  and  praises   due 
That  the  hosts  are  growing  few 

That  license   sin! 

And  for  the  routing  of  this  host 

Of  evil  years, 
(A  theme  for  Deborah  almost) 
Add  thou  a   patriotic  boast 

To  lusty  cheers ! 

And  indeed,  what  can  afford 

A  sight  more  grand 
Than  woman  to  her  rights  restored 
With  a  white  ballot  for  a  sword 

Within   her  hand! 

While  baffled  evils  cringe  and  grope 

Through    darkened   ways, 
We  walk  the  broad  highway  of  hope 
While  in  our  retrospective  scope 
Lie  golden  days ! 

345 


1912. 


But  dearer  than  the  showy  sheen 

Of  earthly  arts 
Are  thoughts — with  naught  to  intervene- 
Like  the  telepathy  between 

Two  human  hearts ! 

Be  thou  content  and  full  of  peace, 

Calm  and  serene, 
Yet  with  a  song  that  shall  not  cease 
Until  the  spirit  finds  release 

In  the  Unseen  ! 

May  you  in  Mercy's  work  be  such 

A   force   for   weal 
That  pain  shall  cease,  however  much, 
And  whatsoever  wounds  you  touch 

Shall   straightway   heal, 

As  Filomena's  hands  restored 

In  Crimea's  day 
The  ragged  wounds  of  Russia's  sword 
Where  in  Scutari's  groaning  ward 

The   English   lay! 

And  may  the  final  record  tell 

In  the  great  book 
That  we  wrestled  long  and  well 
As  Jacob  did  in  Penuel 

Beside  the  brook, 

And  that  we  truly  loved  our  friend 

As  our  own  life 
In  ways  that  did  not  wind  or  bend 
But  ran   unswerving  to  the  end 

Of  mortal  strife ! 

The  rose  and  lily  fresh  with  dew, 

And  bergamot, 
I  send  an  offering  unto  you; 
Wear  thou  for  me  the  tiny,  blue 

Forget-me-not ! 

346 


The  Season's  Greetings 

(To  a  friend) 

Crowned  with   green 
Glossy  sheen 

Holly  wreath, 
Let  Discord 
Put  the  sword 

In  its  sheath ! 

Where  the  sore 
Scourge  of  War 

Brings  its  blight, 
Peace  be  spread 
Till  the  red 

Fields  are  white  1 

And  for  you 
Ever  true, 

Good  and  wise, 
May  the  mirth 
Of  the  earth 

Be  your  prize ! 

Heart  and  mind 
All  combined 

Into  one 
Shedding  light 
Like  the  bright 

Golden   sun! 

Girl   of   fame 
With  a  name 

Like  a  song 
In  the  trees 
When  the  breeze 

Sweeps  along, 

347 


1914. 


Kindly  notes 
Such  as  floats 

From  a  lark 
From  the  height 
As  the  light 

Meets  the  dark! 

Like  a  fine 
Virile   pine 

May   you   grow, 
Xor  the  Yule 
Spirit  cool 

With  the  snow, 

Knowing  well 
There  doth  dwell 

'Neath  the  white 
Counterpane 
Of  the  plain 

Flowers  bright ! 

Wear,    O    Queen, 
Holly's    green 

Coronets, 
While   you   sing 
Of  the  Spring 

Violets! 

Pleasant  ways 
Fill  your  days 

To  the  end 
When  the  light 
And  the   Night 

Meet    and    blend! 


348 


A  Yuletide  Wish 

(To  a   friend) 

To  the  Bird  that  only  sings 

Just  the  best  and  sweetest  things 

And  that  never  makes  a  discord  in  her  song 
I  send  with  this  roundelay 
All  the  cheer  of  Christmas  Day 

And  the  other  things  that  thereunto  belong. 

And  forever  may  the  note 

That  shall  ripple  from  her  throat 

Be  expressive  of  a  happy,  sunny  soul, 

And  may  she,  unknown  to  tears, 
Laugh  and  live  a  thousand  years 

That  shall  ever  grow  in  grandeur  as  they  roll! 

May  the  orchards  as  they  bloom 

And  exhale  their  sweet  perfume 
In  their  glory  keep  a  guard  about  her  nest; 

And  beneath  the  smile  of  Peace 

May  her  ecstasies  increase 
Till  the  Sun  of  Life  shall  fade  within  the  golden  West! 

1913. 

A  Holly  Season  Sentiment 

(To   a   friend) 

May  all  Christmas  spirits  blending 
Like  the  hues  of  rainbows  bending 

In  sweet  benediction  o'er  the  shower-freshened  earth 
Set  your  inner  soul  to  singing 
Songs  of  quiet  peace  and  bringing 

All  the  outward  blessings  of  abundant  joy  and  mirth! 

349 


Peace  in  overflowing  measure, 
Yet  not  circumscribing  pleasure, 

Flood  your  soul  with  sunshine  and  your  life  with  light, 
All  the   darkened  doors  unsealing, 
Driving  cloudy   cares   and   healing 

All  behind  the   shuttered  windows   with   the   sable   shades 
of  night! 

All  the  Yuletide  season's  glories 

And  the  thousand  tender  stories 
That  have  charmed  the  childhood  of  two  thousand  years 

Hold  your  spirit  with  their  beauty, 

Strengthening   for  every  duty 
That  you  shall  encounter  in  this  world  of  hopes  and  fears! 

Crowned  with  never-fading  holly, 

Maiden  serious  and  jolly, 
With  the  winsome  charms  of  woman's  winning  ways, 

Ever  by  sweet  peace  attended 

May  your  pathway  grow  more  splendid 
With  increasing  richness  for  a  hundred   Christmas  Days! 

1914. 


Joy  of  Yule 

(To   a   friend) 

Friend  afar 
Like   a   star 

Big  and  bright, 
Shining  true 
In  the  blue 

Dome   of   Night ! 

Gentle  peace 
Never  cease 

In  your  soul, 
But  add  cheers 
As  the  years 

Onward  roll! 

350 


1914 


Like  the  red 
Roses   spread 

To  the  Sun 
Life  be  sweet 
And  complete 

Till  'tis  done! 

Christmas  bells 
Wherein  dwells 

Music  rare 
Passing  words, 
Like  the  birds 

Of  the  air, 

Drifting  snows, 
Mistletoes, 

Holly  leaves, 
Are  sublime 
As  the  time 

Of  the  sheaves ! 

May  Concord 
Be  restored 

To  the  earth, 
Break  the  spears 
And  turn  tears 

Into  mirth  ! 

And  I  would 
All  were  good, 

Wise  and  "  dry  " 
As  you  are, 
Kindly  star 

In  my  sky ! 

Now  adieu, 
But  o'er  you 

Through  the  strife 
Joy  of  Yule 
Reign   and   rule 

All   your   life! 

351 


1914. 


Christmastide   Peace 

(To   a   friend) 

Peace  to  you 
Eyes  of  blue, 

From  a  friend ; 
Christmastide 
Peace,  abide 

Till  the  end! 

Peace  a  king 
Cannot  bring 

To  a  queen 
Fill  your  heart 
And    impart 

Joy  serene! 

Free  from  tears 
Through   the   years 

May  you  go, 
Laugh  and  sing 
Like   the   Spring 

Streamlet's  flow! 

And  for  you 
May  the  rue 

Never  bloom, 
Only  sweet 
Buds,   replete 

With  perfume ! 

Holly  bough 
Crown   you   now 

And  for  aye; 
Yuletide   cheers 
Many  years 

Come  and  stay ! 

352 


"  For  the  Gift  and  the  Grace  of  the  Gift  M 

(On  receipt  of  a  lettered  handkerchief) 

Dear   Priscilla,   the   best   girl 
That  lives  amid  the  busy  whirl 

Of  great  Chicago  town, 
I  tell  you  I  am  feeling  great 
And   richer  than   a  potentate 

With   diamonds   in   his   crown! 

Your  Christmas  giftlets   came  to  hand 
And  pleased  me  too,  to  beat  the  band, 

Because  they  came  from  you 
And  showed  in  neat  design  the  art 
That  skillful  hand  and  kindly  heart 

Can  only  jointly  do. 

For  the  friendly  thoughts  that  graced 
The  gift  of  such  exquisite  taste 

That  you  have  sent  to  me 
I  make  my  low  salaam  to  you 
With  hearty  thanks  sincere  and  true 

And  deep  as  Neptune's  sea. 

May  Fortune  make  your  gift  of  worth 
A  handmaid  to  the  days  of  Mirth 

Beneath  Life's  sunny  skies, 
And  only  may  its  use  employ 
To  wipe  away  the  tears  of  joy 

From  Laughter's  brimming  eyes, 

Or  wave  in  salutation  when 

We  meet  those  of  our  fellow  men 

We  prize  above  the  rest, 
Or  on  the  highways  of  the  world 
In  earnest  blessings  be  unfurled 

To  "  speed  the  parting  guest." 

December  25,  1912. 

353 


Xmas  and  New  Year  Wishes 

(In   College    days) 

My   dear   little   friend  and   fairy 

I  hope  your  Christmas  will  be  merry 

And  that  you  may  see  the  very 

Happiest  New  Year  that  has  ever  dawned  upon  your  life 
on  earth. 
May  the  new  year  be  your  brightest 
And  its  record  be  the  whitest 
And  your  heart  the  gay  and  lightest 

And  the  fullest  it  has  ever  been  of  peace  and  joy  and  mirth. 

And  may   it   be  beyond  all  measure 
Both  full  of  profit  and  of  pleasure 
And  a  year  that  you  shall  treasure 

As    a    proud    and    pleasant    memory    when    it    shall    have 
passed  away  ; 
May   it   not  be  harsh,  imperious, 
Or  morose,  moody  and  mysterious, 
To  one  so  sunny,  sweet  and  serious, 

Kindly,  courteous,  cute  and  clever,  gracious,  good  and  gay. 

I   wish  only  an  unbounded  blessing 
For  the  dear  friend  I  am  addressing 
And  a  Christmas  merry  beyond  guessing 
And    an    endless    source    of    comfort    to    which    pleasant 

thoughts  return. 
And  this  day  may  you  long  remember 
On   the  return  of  each  December, 
And  by  this  dying  century's  ember 
May    a    glowing    fire    be    kindled    that    shall    bright    and 

brighter  burn. 

And  when  the  night  of  life  is  ended, 
When  twilight  and  the  dawn  have  blended 
May  you  find  a  day  more  splendid 

354 


And   a   glory  more   transcendent   than   you    ever   dreamed 
of  here. 
But  'mid  this  old  world's  woe  and  folly 
May  you  be  crowned  with  wreaths  of  holly, 
And  again  I  wish  you  a  most  jolly, 
Joyous,  merry  Christmas  and  a  happy,  bright  Xew  Year. 


1899. 


A  Christmas  Salute 

To  the  Rose  that  blooms  as  gay 

In  the  Winter  as  in  May 
With  a  glory  that  is  very  superfine, 

I  send  with  this  little  song 

All  the  good  things  that  belong 
To  the  season  of  the  holly  and  the  pine! 

All  the  cheer  and  joys  that  go 

With  the  yule  and  mistletoe 
And  the  peace  that  rests  upon  the  happy  earth 

Be   with   her  and  there   abide, 

But  increased  and  magnified 
In  accordance  with  her  goodness  and  her  worth  ! 


The  Season's  Wishes 

May  the  story  Christmas  tells 

With   the  tongues  of  chiming  bells 
In  the  soft  and  silver  cadence  of  a  song  of  rest  and  peace 

'Compass  you   within   the   scope 

Of  its  spirit  and  its  hope, 
Filling  all  your  life  with  music  and  with  joys  that  never 
cease ! 

Wear  a  crown  with  the  bright   sheen 
Of  the  holly's  fadeless  green 
As  a  sign  of  ceaseless  Springtime  in  the  heart  that  beats 
below, 

355 


Like  the  noble  pines  that  stand 
Sentries  o'er  a  sleeping  land 
With  their  hearts  aflame  with  Summer  and  their  helmets 
white  with  snow! 

Songs  of  birds  salute  your  ear 
Every   morning  of  the  year 
And  the  wayside  bloom  with  daisies  where  you  walk  with 
many   friends, 
And   each  sunset  you  behold 
Be  a  sea  of  molten  gold 
And  the  sky  a  starry  splendor  when  the  sable  shade  de- 
scends ! 


Christmastime  Wishes 

Christmas    greetings,   fragile    flower 

Whom  I  met  in  one  bright  hour 
When    I    swept    the   great    Republic    to    the   rims   of    either 
shore, 

Blooming  by  the  path  of  duty. 

Blending  bits  of  all  the  beauty 
Of  the  violets  I  worship  and  the  stars  that  I  adore! 

Yuletide  deck  you  with  a  glory 

Like  the  hemlocks  high  and  hoary 
With   their   diadems   of   Winter   and   their    royal   robes   of 
snow  ; 

Peace  be  with  you  'mid  the  thronging, 

Many  merry  joys  belonging 
To  the  time  of  pine  and  holly  and  the  mystic  mistletoe! 

May  your   future  smile  serenely, 
Crowning  you  with  all  the  queenly 
Gifts  and  graces  of  the  noblest  in   the   world  of  woman- 
kind, 
And  you  grow  to  the  commanding 
Glory  of  a  rose  expanding, 
In   whose   beauty   all   the   splendors  of   creation    are   com- 
bined ! 

356 


Christmas 

(To  a  friend) 

May  the  skies  of  Christmas  bending 
O'er  a   world   in   war  contending 

See  the  conflict  cease; 
May  the  hearts  of  men  be  lifted 
And  the  war  clouds  rent  and  rifted 

By  the  sun  of  peace ! 

And  to  thee  in  quiet  power 
May  the  spirit  of  the  hour 

Come  and  ever  stay, 
Making  all  a  world  of  beauty 
And  the  path  of  daily  duty 

An   enchanted   way ! 

Jocund  Yule  be  your  attendant, 
Hope  the  star  in  the  ascendant 

In  your   mortal   sky, 
Peace  and  friendships,  never-ceasing, 
And   all  harmonies   increasing 

As   the   years  go  by! 


357 


Yuletide 

My  good  friend  of  passing  days, 
Fair  as  the  resurgent  rays 
When  Aurora  sweeps  in  splendor  through  the  doorway  of 
the  Dawn, 
Peace  of  Christmastide  be  thine 
With    the   spirit    of   the    pine 
That   retains    its    life   and    vigor    when    the    Summer    days 
have  gone! 

Holly  wreaths  upon  your  head, 
Rich  with  berries  bright  and  red, 

Be  but  emblems  of  an  endless  vernal  season  in  your  soul, 
And   your    life    like    fruitful    fields, 
Whose    full   ripened   harvest   yields 

Hope  and  health  and  joy  abundant  for  a  world  of  doubt 
and  dole! 

Yule  be  in  your  youthful  heart 
And  its  buoyant  joys  impart 
As  your  pathway  winds  and  wanders  through  the  wonder- 
land  of    life, 
Making  all  serene  and   sweet, 
And  your  light,  peace-sandaled  feet 
Beautiful    upon    the    mountains    and    the    plains    of    mortal 
strife! 


358 


Golden  Wedding  Wishes 

to 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwin  A.  Galusha 

(Dec.  8th,  1875— Dec.  8th,  1925) 

Hail,  O  royal  pair  who  trod 
From  marigold  to  golden  rod 

The  path  of  rue  and  rose 
Together  to  this  honored  day- 
Linking  orchard  blossomed  May 

To  Yuletide's  chastened  snows! 

A  mute  esteem  I  need  must  bring 
O,  gracious  queen  and  noble  king 

To  lay  before  your  thone, 
E'er  as  words  are  vain  to  tell 
To  singing  bird  and  chiming  bell 

The  sweetness  of  their  tone  1 

And  so  my  wishes  must  be  told 
In  symbols  of  unsullied  gold 

Which  only  can  impart 
My  unalloyed  regard  and  true 
Tribute  of  respect  to  you 

That  issues  from  my  heart! 

To  bride  and  groom  of  that  far  day 
Now  half  a  century  away 

Winds  of  Memory  blow 
A  sweet  attar  and  perfume 
Fragrant   as   the   orange   bloom 

Of  fifty  years  ago! 


359 


This  Book 

This  is  my  Past.    Without  regret 

I  leave  it  for  the  open  seas 

That  lie  ahead,  with  all  sails  set 

And  braced  and  stayed   for  every  breeze! 

Yet  not  as  old  dismasted  wrecks 
Hold  I  the  years  now  drifted  by 
Where   phantoms   walk   deserted   decks 
And  tangled  shrouds  and  rigging  lie! 

For  goodly  galleys  bore  me  far 
Over  wide  sunlit   fields  of  foam, 
And  compass  true  and  constant  star 
And  kindly  breezes  brought  me  home! 

And  yet  some  near-shipwrecks  I  knew 
And   tempests   menaced   my   frail  barque, 
Rut  these,  by  kindly  fate,  were  few, 
And  short  the  storm  and  brief  the  dark! 

Warned  by  the  lighthouse  of  the  Past 
On  sunken  reef  and  siren  shore 
I  face  the  deep,  profound  and  vast, 
To  take   what  Ocean  has  in  store! 


360 


INDEX 

POEMS  OF  THE  GREAT  REFORM 

Page 

Dedication    7 

Proem    8 

The  American   Flag    9 

The   Prohibitionist    10 

The  Prohibition  Pen   12 

Illinois    13 

Appeal  to  the  Columbus   Convention    16 

The  Field,  the  Foe  and  the  Sword   19 

The  Female  of  the  Species   20 

To  Hon.  Charles   H.   Poole    21 

To  a  New  Knight    22 

The   W.   C.   T.   U.    (Song)    24 

The  New  Star  in  the  West   25 

The  Church  Somnolent   27 

The  Prohibition   Backslider   28 

We    Boys    29 

A  Lesson  From  a  Legend  30 

The    Fiend   of   Drink    33 

As  Seen  in  Chicago  37 

Voting    for    Woolley    47 

The  Impending  Doom    48 

An  Argument   49 

The  Four  New  Stars   53 

Twentieth  Century  Knighthood  54 

National  Woman's   Suffrage    56 

The  Pirate  Ships  at   Bay   57 

The   New   Sisterhood    58 

The    Prohibitionist's    Invitation    59 

Chicago    (Song)    60 

Chicago    (Song)    61 

No  Doubt  About  It  63 

361 


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The  Prohibition  Party   64 

To  Woodrow  Wilson   65 

The   Scar  on   Woman's   Face    66 

The  Women  Know   69 

The  Story  of  the  Special   71 

John   P.   St.  John    90 

The  Sword  of  Hanly    91 

The  New  America   (Song)    92 

Daniel   A.    Poling    93 

Santa    Monica    94 

A   Prohibition   Story    95 

The   Seven    States    Ill 

Our    Party    113 

Our    Constitutional    Amendment    115 

The  Battle  Imminent    117 

Dr.    Ira    Landrith    118 

The  Noblest   Deed    119 

"  Consummatum    Est  "    121 

The  Pen  of  Hanly   123 

The  Fifty  Years'  War   124 

Oliver   Wayne    Stewart    127 

Eugene    Wilder    Chafin    128 

Lovisa    M.    Steck    129 

To   a   Veteran    Prohibitionist    130 

His  Armistice   (Rev.   Walter   L   Ferris)    132 

The  Knight  of  the  Prairies   133 

Robert   H.    Patton    135 

Dan   R.   Sheen    136 

William   Jennings    Bryan    138 

Clinton    N.   Howard    139 

POEMS  OF  THE  GREAT  WAR 

Dedication    144 

"A   State   of   War1*    145 

America   and   France   (Song)    146 

The   Flag  Unfurled    147 

The  Khaki  Hosts   148 

The   Red   Cross    149 

362 


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The    Liberty    Loan    149 

Herod  and   Pilate    150 

Bride  and  Khaki   Groom    152 

"The    Republican"    153 

Mars    Ascendant     153 

Norman   James    Tweedie    154 

The   Service   Flag   Unfurled    155 

England     155 

To  J.   Ellis   Machamer    156 

Private    La  Verne    T.    Perrottet    158 

Willis   Hugh   Cork   159 

The    Home-Coming    160 

The   Star  of  Burnished  Gold    161 

Peace    162 

Welcome   to  Lieut.  Charles  Wayland   Brooks    163 

"What  Should  Be  Done  With  the  Kaiser?"   164 

The  Hero  of  the  Homestead    165 

Stuart  R.  Murray   166 

The   Reserve   Militia    167 

Russell    R.    Brooks    168 

The  Story  of  the  Service   Flag   169 

Woodrow    Wilson    172 

Woodrow   Wilson    (In   Memoriam)    173 

"  The   Wheaton  "    174 

St.   Michael's    Service    Stars    175 

Vincent    I.   March    176 

Howard  George  Leonard    177 

Rev.  Jonas  G.  Brooks    178 

The   Return   Triumphant    (Song)    179 

"  Roads  of  Remembrance  " — Memorial  Trees   180 

The  Voice  of  Locarno   182 

POEMS  OF  PHILOSOPHY  AND  FRIENDS 

Wheaton   College    185 

The  College  of  Honor  and  Fame   (Song)    186 

The  Christian   College    187 

Wheaton  College  Alumni  Song  188 

Alumni    Thoughts    189 

363 


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The   School  We  Love  Dearest   (Song)    192 

Ode  to  Wheaton  College   194 

The   Graduates'  Farewell   (Song)    197 

The  Old  Society  Hall  198 

The  Excelsiors'  Farewell   (Song)    200 

Farewell   to   the    Seniors    201 

Farewell    202 

Welcome   to  the   Class   of   1917    204 

Wheaton    College    (Song)    205 

Alumni   Salute  to  President   Blanchard    207 

Ode    208 

Wheaton— My  City   209 

The   City's   Tribute    (To  Jesse   C.   Wheaton)    210 

William   R.   Plum    211 

Dr.    Charles   E.   Allum    212 

Mrs.  Jessie  Hadley   Fox    213 

"  Doc  "   Hopf.    ..." 214 

Edward   Garrity    215 

Edward  Garrity    (In   Memoriam)    217 

Linn  Hiatt   217 

John    H.    Kampp    219 

Dr.   Harlow  V.  Holt    222 

William   E.   Gary    223 

Charles  W.    Hadley    224 

Charles  W.  Hadley    225 

Charles   W.    Hadley    226 

"  Red  "   Grange    227 

Grange    (Song)    228 

The    Badgers    229 

"Red"  Grange   in   1924   230 

Prof.  J.   B.   Russell    231 

Alumni  Farewell  Song  W.   H.   S 232 

1922   Coronation   Ode    233 

1024   Coronation   Ode    234 

From  Court  House  Friends   235 

To  "  Doc  "   (on  Vacation)    235 

The  Court  House  Valedictory    236 

Farewell  Ode    237 

364 


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To    "Bluefox"     239 

William  W.  Steven    240 

To    Bill   and   Sue    241 

To   Newton   E.   Matter    242 

Judge    Elbert   H.    Gary    243 

Rev.  F.  Hobart  Millett   244 

A  Salute   245 

A  Wave  of  the  Hand  247 

The  Birds  249 

On   Reading  a   Booklet   of   Poems    250 

Rev.    E.   C.   Lumsden    251 

Mater  Carissima  (Song)   252 

Dedication    254 

"  De  Senectute  "   255 

The  Angel  Israfel  257 

The  Dead  Year  258 

Voyage  of  "  The  Sunbeam  "   260 

Straying  Thoughts    261 

The   Inward   Monitor    262 

"  Bonum  et   Benignatas  "    263 

The  Boys  in  the  Blue  (Song)   264 

Dewey,  the  Pride  of  the  Navy   (Song)    266 

Flag  of  the  Eight  and  Forty  Stars    267 

Memorial   Day    (Song)    268 

The  Dead  Suffragette    269 

Unforgotten     270 

To  a  Friend    271 

A  Vacation  Wish   272 

Memories  That  Make  Us  Strong   273 

A  Good  Friend    276 

Good-Bye   to   a   Friend    278 

To   a   College   Friend    279 

Age  23   280 

The   Passing  Years    281 

Birds     282 

From  a  Wayfarer    283 

In  the  Afterglow    284 

The  Queen  Flower    285 

365 


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3.14159     285 

Halloween    287 

Interned    288 

To   a   Kid   Friend    289 

The  "  Lost    Pleiad  "    290 

Sympathy  and  Solace   292 

The  Golden  Wedding  295 

From    Me   and   Doc    296 

To   a    Friend    in    SofTOW*fl    Shadows    297 

An    Appreciation    101 

A    Rom   for    Remembrance    KB 

Pure   Friendship   106 

The  Golden  Wedding   MP 

Despair     

Hymeneal     309 

To   Judge    W.    II.   Tomlinson    110 

The    Real    Royalty     311 

H2 

p  m 

Wedding  Withes    MS 

Wenatchee  Apples  116 

Reply  t«>  a   Met;  k  on   W  W'iNoii    317 

Lottie  Hotman  o'Xedl  319 

I. my    Rage   GottOH    120 

:i    B.    Anthony    K21 

"A   Noble  Woman  Nobly   Planned"   

Your    Visit    

1  riend     325 

To    Baby   Oakes    326 

Written   on   Fly-Leaf   of    My    Hook    U7 

"  Darker    Musing>  "    

A  Vacation  liesaage  330 

ition    Greetings    331 

To  a  Sick  Singer    332 

\    Spring    Salutation     333 

An    Easter   Morning   Muse    334 

Easter    Day    Musings    336 

An    Easter   Salutation    338 

366 


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To  a  Friend   at   Easter    340 

An   Easter   Greeting    341 

Easter    342 

A  Thanksgiving  Thought   343 

A  Thanksgiving  Day  Muse   344 

The  Season's  Greetings   347 

A   Yuletide  Wish    349 

A   Holly   Season   Sentiment    349 

Joy  of   Yule    350 

Christmastide    Peace    352 

"For  the  Gift  and  the  Grace  of  the  Gift"   353 

Xmas  and  New  Year  Wishes   354 

A  Christmas  Salute    355 

The   Season's  Wishes    355 

Christmastide  Wishes    356 

Christmas     357 

Yuletide    358 

Golden   Wedding  Wishes    359 

This  Book   360 


367 


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